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 Luxembourg and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes 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 the Slits to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
David Bowie,
Zapp,
Thee Headcoats,
Pussy Galore,
The Durutti Column,
Lalo Schifrin,
Heaven 17,
Franke,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Quantec,
Gang Gang Dance,
Howard Jones,
Kas Product,
The Moleskins,
Surgeon,
Ronnie Foster,
Joensuu 1685,
Ultravox,
Newcleus,
Bootsy Collins,
Television,
Fela Kuti,
The Slits,
Sarah Menescal,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sun City Girls,
The Kinks,
Scott Walker,
Juan Atkins,
Kerri Chandler,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Gladiators,
KRS-One,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tomorrow,
Tommy Roe,
Moby Grape,
Deakin,
UT,
New Order,
Country Teasers,
ABC,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Tremeloes,
Das Ding,
the Human League,
Barbara Tucker,
Todd Terry,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cure,
Anthony Braxton,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Aloha Tigers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Metal Thangz,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Masters at Work,
Terry Callier,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.