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 Peru and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Stiv Bators to the grunge 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Animal Collective,
Niagra,
Royal Trux,
the Bar-Kays,
The Five Americans,
Panda Bear,
The Associates,
Susan Cadogan,
Arcadia,
T.S.O.L.,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Flamin' Groovies,
Blossom Toes,
Brass Construction,
Radiopuhelimet,
The United States of America,
the Human League,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Make Up,
Crash Course in Science,
John Coltrane,
The Beau Brummels,
Lalann,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
LL Cool J,
cv313,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marcia Griffiths,
La Düsseldorf,
The Real Kids,
Nirvana,
Morten Harket,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minnie Riperton,
Bronski Beat,
The Raincoats,
Black Sheep,
Desert Stars,
Marvin Gaye,
Yusef Lateef,
Average White Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bobby Byrd,
The Evens,
MDC,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tears for Fears,
Soulsonic Force,
Mantronix,
The Music Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lower 48,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.