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 South Sudan and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Lalann to the disco 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Lungfish,
The Electric Prunes,
H. Thieme,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Agitation Free,
Donny Hathaway,
Ronnie Foster,
Deepchord,
Panda Bear,
Peter and Kerry,
Reuben Wilson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Letta Mbulu,
B.T. Express,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Con Funk Shun,
The Names,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fugazi,
The Gories,
Boogie Down Productions,
Piero Umiliani,
Icehouse,
One Last Wish,
The Pretty Things,
Interpol,
Morten Harket,
Brothers Johnson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marine Girls,
Prince Buster,
David Bowie,
Leonard Cohen,
Godley & Creme,
the Human League,
The Misunderstood,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gastr Del Sol,
Funkadelic,
Crooked Eye,
Janne Schatter,
Alice Coltrane,
Moebius,
Deakin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mad Mike,
The Fire Engines,
The Birthday Party,
L. Decosne,
Quadrant,
PIL,
China Crisis,
Slave,
Excepter,
Black Flag,
Ronan,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cecil Taylor,
Cheater Slicks,
Swell Maps,
The Smiths,
Minnie Riperton,
Davy DMX,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.