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 Germany and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the dance 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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cecil Taylor,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
48th St. Collective,
Bauhaus,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harry Pussy,
Sam Rivers,
Television Personalities,
Bill Near,
Morten Harket,
The Remains,
Eddi Front,
Theoretical Girls,
Drexciya,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Tom Boy,
Robert Görl,
Matthew Bourne,
The Zeros,
Franke,
Lou Christie,
Tubeway Army,
Judy Mowatt,
Neil Young,
Gang Starr,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fire Engines,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Robert Hood,
John Holt,
Janne Schatter,
Connie Case,
Minnie Riperton,
Bang On A Can,
Pierre Henry,
Hasil Adkins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Todd Rundgren,
Livin' Joy,
Ultra Naté,
Quadrant,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
These Immortal Souls,
a-ha,
Qualms,
Flash Fearless,
Gabor Szabo,
the Soft Cell,
L. Decosne,
Crash Course in Science,
Public Image Ltd.,
Simply Red,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.