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 Gambia and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ 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 K-Klass to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ten City,
Visage,
The Fall,
Eric Dolphy,
Royal Trux,
Wasted Youth,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Blues Magoos,
Sam Rivers,
Icehouse,
John Holt,
La Düsseldorf,
Pagans,
Lightning Bolt,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scott Walker,
The Cure,
The Count Five,
Gang Gang Dance,
World's Most,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Reuben Wilson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Bananas,
Boredoms,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kevin Saunderson,
Alphaville,
Archie Shepp,
X-102,
Aswad,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ultravox,
Kool Moe Dee,
Animal Collective,
Saccharine Trust,
Soul Sonic Force,
Surgeon,
The Techniques,
Magazine,
Jeff Lynne,
Pierre Henry,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wally Richardson,
Fugazi,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Agent Orange,
Charles Mingus,
Schoolly D,
Con Funk Shun,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Monolake,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Avey Tare,
Albert Ayler,
Sällskapet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Audionom,
Siglo XX,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.