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 Rwanda and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 ABBA to the punk 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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
Scientists,
Second Layer,
Peter and Kerry,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Morten Harket,
The Dead C,
The Tremeloes,
New York Dolls,
Yellowson,
Mad Mike,
the Fania All-Stars,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fela Kuti,
Moebius,
Deakin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kenny Larkin,
The Music Machine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Blues Magoos,
Faraquet,
James White and The Blacks,
Byron Stingily,
Roger Hodgson,
Agitation Free,
Sam Rivers,
The Beau Brummels,
Tres Demented,
Blake Baxter,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Gories,
Matthew Bourne,
The Leaves,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
KRS-One,
David McCallum,
Sällskapet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Panda Bear,
Porter Ricks,
Neu!,
MC5,
The Detroit Cobras,
F. McDonald,
Y Pants,
The Moleskins,
Eli Mardock,
Darondo,
Ornette Coleman,
Kurtis Blow,
Joy Division,
The Fuzztones,
Bluetip,
Kerri Chandler,
Metal Thangz,
Gang Gang Dance,
Swell Maps,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.