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 Belize and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Average White Band 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fear,
Ronnie Foster,
Con Funk Shun,
The Names,
John Lydon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Bananas,
Funky Four + One,
Moebius,
Rekid,
Black Pus,
The Slackers,
Pantaleimon,
New Order,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ohio Players,
Eddi Front,
Unwound,
Rapeman,
Mission of Burma,
Soft Cell,
Reuben Wilson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
James White and The Blacks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bill Near,
The Star Department,
The Music Machine,
The Wake,
The Offenders,
Niagra,
The Smoke,
EPMD,
John Foxx,
Groovy Waters,
The Barracudas,
Gichy Dan,
Whodini,
Alice Coltrane,
Eric B and Rakim,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Flipper,
David Axelrod,
The Slits,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Red Krayola,
D'Angelo,
Fugazi,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Country Teasers,
Johnny Clarke,
Hot Snakes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Derrick Morgan,
Charles Mingus,
Inner City,
The Cramps,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
48th St. Collective,
Archie Shepp,
Aloha Tigers,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.