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 Liechtenstein and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mo-Dettes to the disco 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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
L. Decosne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brand Nubian,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dawn Penn,
Vainqueur,
Shuggie Otis,
Television Personalities,
Quadrant,
The Leaves,
Eve St. Jones,
Average White Band,
Gichy Dan,
JFA,
The Velvet Underground,
Idris Muhammad,
The Residents,
48th St. Collective,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Martian,
Sun Ra,
Andrew Hill,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pole,
ABBA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Human League,
Gang Starr,
Johnny Clarke,
Con Funk Shun,
Alison Limerick,
The Misunderstood,
The Dave Clark Five,
Aaron Thompson,
Khruangbin,
New Order,
Popol Vuh,
Qualms,
Animal Collective,
Theoretical Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
Panda Bear,
The Buckinghams,
Faust,
Connie Case,
The Barracudas,
The Flesh Eaters,
Derrick May,
The Tremeloes,
Warsaw,
Ossler,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Wyatt,
Cheater Slicks,
June of 44,
Bluetip,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.