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 Bhutan and from Mumbai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 L. Decosne to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Misunderstood,
The Kinks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Swans,
Piero Umiliani,
the Normal,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
a-ha,
Desert Stars,
Black Moon,
Roger Hodgson,
Byron Stingily,
Sugar Minott,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Severed Heads,
Pierre Henry,
Gichy Dan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sarah Menescal,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hoover,
Blake Baxter,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Black Dice,
June of 44,
Scratch Acid,
Scott Walker,
Patti Smith,
Essential Logic,
Pole,
Talk Talk,
Youth Brigade,
Monks,
ABC,
Rotary Connection,
Surgeon,
Iggy Pop,
The Doors,
Television Personalities,
Ohio Players,
Ludus,
Mantronix,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Al Stewart,
The Evens,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Arthur Verocai,
Los Fastidios,
Soft Cell,
Suburban Knight,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Heaven 17,
Althea and Donna,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Real Kids,
Roy Ayers,
Yazoo,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.