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 Namibia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Minnie Riperton to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Danielle Patucci,
Magazine,
Soft Machine,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Chris Corsano,
Qualms,
Lucky Dragons,
Ponytail,
KRS-One,
Hasil Adkins,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cowsills,
Royal Trux,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Association,
James White and The Blacks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Derrick Morgan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joensuu 1685,
Boz Scaggs,
Inner City,
Bobby Byrd,
Little Man,
The Grass Roots,
Toni Rubio,
OOIOO,
Ultimate Spinach,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cecil Taylor,
The Music Machine,
Erasure,
Radiohead,
Ronan,
Mad Mike,
The Modern Lovers,
Camberwell Now,
Easy Going,
Negative Approach,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Clear Light,
Johnny Osbourne,
Adolescents,
Scott Walker,
Public Enemy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Bar-Kays,
the Normal,
Guru Guru,
Rites of Spring,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stiv Bators,
X-101,
Chrome,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eric Copeland,
Amazonics,
The Index,
Loose Ends,
Silicon Teens,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.