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 Brunei and from New York.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Judy Mowatt to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Nick Fraelich,
Soft Cell,
Unrelated Segments,
Desert Stars,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bill Near,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fall,
Wasted Youth,
FM Einheit,
MC5,
Jacques Brel,
The Misunderstood,
Wire,
Albert Ayler,
The Golliwogs,
The Buckinghams,
Index,
B.T. Express,
the Human League,
Crash Course in Science,
the Bar-Kays,
Mission of Burma,
Livin' Joy,
Crooked Eye,
Liliput,
James White and The Blacks,
Neil Young,
Swans,
Bobby Sherman,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
R.M.O.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mantronix,
Heaven 17,
Letta Mbulu,
Joe Smooth,
Babytalk,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Sheep,
The Star Department,
The Slackers,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-101,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Womack,
The Count Five,
Piero Umiliani,
Duran Duran,
The Associates,
John Coltrane,
June of 44,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
T.S.O.L.,
Jeff Mills,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scion,
Funkadelic,
The Real Kids,
Intrusion,
Agitation Free,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.