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 Cambodia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Swans to the rock 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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Dual Sessions,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Infiniti,
Skaos,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mars,
June of 44,
DJ Sneak,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tommy Roe,
The Sisters of Mercy,
JFA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Music Machine,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Hot Snakes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Godley & Creme,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fire Engines,
Heaven 17,
Black Sheep,
Ultravox,
Roxy Music,
AZ,
The Smiths,
Darondo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Blossom Toes,
The Star Department,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Excepter,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Black Pus,
Bobby Sherman,
Big Daddy Kane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Country Teasers,
Magma,
The Happenings,
Don Cherry,
Lou Reed,
Eric Copeland,
Kevin Saunderson,
Erasure,
Dark Day,
Con Funk Shun,
Q65,
Althea and Donna,
Scion,
Slick Rick,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Al Stewart,
Gerry Rafferty,
Skarface,
Pylon,
10cc,
Jawbox,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.