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 Marshall Islands and from Milan.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Anthony Braxton to the grunge 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Pere Ubu,
Arab on Radar,
The Smiths,
Tim Buckley,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eric B and Rakim,
DJ Style,
B.T. Express,
Ash Ra Tempel,
LL Cool J,
Bush Tetras,
Bronski Beat,
Mandrill,
Juan Atkins,
Godley & Creme,
Delon & Dalcan,
Morten Harket,
Von Mondo,
the Slits,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Evens,
R.M.O.,
Average White Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harry Pussy,
Kurtis Blow,
The Black Dice,
Symarip,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Womack,
Porter Ricks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
X-Ray Spex,
Wally Richardson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Roxette,
Donny Hathaway,
Accadde A,
Ultra Naté,
Lindisfarne,
The Happenings,
L. Decosne,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Trojans,
Neu!,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lalo Schifrin,
Barry Ungar,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Victims,
Banda Bassotti,
Hot Snakes,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Colin Newman,
Joey Negro,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultravox,
Todd Terry,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.