Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Ecuador and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Jeff Lynne to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Das Ding,
The Martian,
Swans,
Yusef Lateef,
The Detroit Cobras,
Heaven 17,
Thee Headcoats,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
E-Dancer,
Minnie Riperton,
David Bowie,
Mandrill,
Hardrive,
Lou Christie,
Y Pants,
Davy DMX,
The Associates,
Soft Machine,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
ABC,
Popol Vuh,
Tears for Fears,
Scrapy,
The J.B.'s,
Au Pairs,
Aswad,
The Smiths,
Aural Exciters,
Echospace,
The Music Machine,
Index,
Maleditus Sound,
Masters at Work,
Public Enemy,
The Evens,
Lalann,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soft Cell,
the Association,
Alton Ellis,
Urselle,
John Coltrane,
Darondo,
Grey Daturas,
The Victims,
Iggy Pop,
EPMD,
Reuben Wilson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Kinks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fat Boys,
Traffic Nightmare,
Albert Ayler,
The Index,
Visage,
Fluxion,
Camberwell Now,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.