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 Latvia and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Lower 48 to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Ludus,
Boz Scaggs,
Tim Buckley,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Clear Light,
Bronski Beat,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Smiths,
Shoche,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Liliput,
Spandau Ballet,
Deadbeat,
Sonny Sharrock,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Arab on Radar,
Basic Channel,
Metal Thangz,
Absolute Body Control,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eve St. Jones,
Ponytail,
The Pretty Things,
Au Pairs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Slick Rick,
Laurel Aitken,
Ossler,
Trumans Water,
the Swans,
Howard Jones,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Don Cherry,
The Leaves,
Newcleus,
X-101,
The Monks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Victims,
Bluetip,
Angry Samoans,
Japan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Arthur Verocai,
Jeff Mills,
Unwound,
Sugar Minott,
Mad Mike,
Youth Brigade,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Happenings,
Barry Ungar,
Yusef Lateef,
FM Einheit,
The Five Americans,
LL Cool J,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.