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 Jamaica and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jimmy McGriff to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
The Durutti Column,
cv313,
Crispian St. Peters,
KRS-One,
Roger Hodgson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Connie Case,
Desert Stars,
E-Dancer,
Robert Hood,
Todd Terry,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Goldenarms,
Make Up,
Cheater Slicks,
Talk Talk,
Howard Jones,
Peter & Gordon,
Soulsonic Force,
The Slackers,
The Remains,
Quadrant,
Aloha Tigers,
Sparks,
John Cale,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scion,
Animal Collective,
Radiopuhelimet,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Deakin,
Ronan,
The Invisible,
T.S.O.L.,
Bill Near,
Swans,
Charles Mingus,
Suburban Knight,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Spandau Ballet,
Blossom Toes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The United States of America,
Lyres,
Saccharine Trust,
Los Fastidios,
Colin Newman,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Max Romeo,
Deadbeat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brothers Johnson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Letta Mbulu,
Livin' Joy,
Byron Stingily,
Barclay James Harvest,
D'Angelo,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.