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 Paraguay and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the marimba 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 Andrew Hill to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Heaven 17,
Aaron Thompson,
Country Teasers,
Morten Harket,
Mission of Burma,
Graham Central Station,
Gichy Dan,
Howard Jones,
Unrelated Segments,
Al Stewart,
Easy Going,
Eric B and Rakim,
Throbbing Gristle,
Maurizio,
The Slackers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
B.T. Express,
Visage,
Newcleus,
Dead Boys,
Slick Rick,
Angry Samoans,
The Fortunes,
Motorama,
Aural Exciters,
Maleditus Sound,
The Leaves,
Livin' Joy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Bar-Kays,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Soft Cell,
Carl Craig,
Unwound,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yusef Lateef,
Radiohead,
The Durutti Column,
Flash Fearless,
The Residents,
Ronnie Foster,
Archie Shepp,
Camberwell Now,
Barry Ungar,
The Kinks,
The Happenings,
The Raincoats,
Vainqueur,
Symarip,
Index,
Radio Birdman,
Pole,
Infiniti,
K-Klass,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mad Mike,
The Fire Engines,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.