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 Germany and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Glenn Branca to the funk 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Das Ding,
Black Pus,
Talk Talk,
Pussy Galore,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sound Behaviour,
Mantronix,
Peter and Kerry,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Martian,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pole,
Toni Rubio,
Visage,
Maleditus Sound,
Prince Buster,
World's Most,
Tres Demented,
The Durutti Column,
Accadde A,
Magma,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tom Boy,
ABBA,
Model 500,
Andrew Hill,
Half Japanese,
Connie Case,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Remains,
the Sonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fugazi,
Stetsasonic,
Terry Callier,
The Trojans,
The Stooges,
Harmonia,
Piero Umiliani,
Dawn Penn,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
B.T. Express,
Shuggie Otis,
Kaleidoscope,
Joey Negro,
MC5,
Delta 5,
the Swans,
Electric Prunes,
Gong,
Quando Quango,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
David Bowie,
Ornette Coleman,
Barbara Tucker,
Porter Ricks,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.