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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 The Cure to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Khruangbin,
Grey Daturas,
Eden Ahbez,
X-Ray Spex,
Sandy B,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tim Buckley,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cybotron,
The Cure,
Marc Almond,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Wake,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ronnie Foster,
U.S. Maple,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cluster,
The Music Machine,
Radiohead,
Eli Mardock,
Alton Ellis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Real Kids,
Tears for Fears,
Hoover,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sarah Menescal,
Pagans,
Country Teasers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roy Ayers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Shuggie Otis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
JFA,
Crash Course in Science,
Darondo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bauhaus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Move,
Idris Muhammad,
Pere Ubu,
Rapeman,
Chris & Cosey,
Deadbeat,
The Kinks,
Sister Nancy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Stereo Dub,
Moebius,
Toni Rubio,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Green,
Underground Resistance,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tom Boy,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.