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 Tanzania and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Blake Baxter to the rap 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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DeepChord presents Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Danielle Patucci,
Matthew Bourne,
Shoche,
Fugazi,
Stiv Bators,
The Black Dice,
the Bar-Kays,
Young Marble Giants,
Japan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fuzztones,
Model 500,
The Monks,
Ronan,
Aswad,
Yaz,
The Kinks,
Zapp,
Neil Young,
Quando Quango,
Q65,
Joey Negro,
the Soft Cell,
Livin' Joy,
Bob Dylan,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joensuu 1685,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Byrd,
Quantec,
The Human League,
Flipper,
Buzzcocks,
Minny Pops,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
F. McDonald,
Surgeon,
The Stooges,
Blossom Toes,
Robert Görl,
Leonard Cohen,
Intrusion,
Minnie Riperton,
Kerrie Biddell,
Brothers Johnson,
Hoover,
Arthur Verocai,
Q and Not U,
Amon Düül,
Rhythm & Sound,
Terry Callier,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Golliwogs,
The Martian,
Michelle Simonal,
Dawn Penn,
Lakeside,
Jeff Lynne,
Peter & Gordon,
Rufus Thomas,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.