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 Singapore and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the rock 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu 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?
Niagra,
Archie Shepp,
The Pretty Things,
Thee Headcoats,
Ralphi Rosario,
Outsiders,
Ohio Players,
K-Klass,
Circle Jerks,
Brand Nubian,
the Bar-Kays,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hot Snakes,
Rekid,
Charles Mingus,
Gastr Del Sol,
Moby Grape,
Massinfluence,
Shoche,
Sun Ra,
Harmonia,
Erykah Badu,
Shuggie Otis,
T. Rex,
UT,
John Cale,
Basic Channel,
Lakeside,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Sherman,
Technova,
Buzzcocks,
Black Bananas,
The Music Machine,
Procol Harum,
Chris & Cosey,
Quadrant,
Eli Mardock,
Sarah Menescal,
Model 500,
Organ,
The Searchers,
The Moleskins,
The Offenders,
H. Thieme,
Lalann,
Popol Vuh,
Bob Dylan,
Los Fastidios,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Man Parrish,
Maleditus Sound,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Country Teasers,
Adolescents,
Oblivians,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bootsy Collins,
Con Funk Shun,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.