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 Vanuatu and from Paris.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pop Group to the jazz 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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Pagans,
Parry Music,
Rod Modell,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Index,
David Axelrod,
Sandy B,
Organ,
Kerrie Biddell,
Easy Going,
Darondo,
Jerry's Kids,
Mantronix,
Barclay James Harvest,
Porter Ricks,
Faraquet,
Bronski Beat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Motorama,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bauhaus,
Lou Christie,
cv313,
Girls At Our Best!,
R.M.O.,
The Count Five,
Gabor Szabo,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Monks,
Outsiders,
The Fugs,
The Raincoats,
Theoretical Girls,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Angry Samoans,
Henry Cow,
Matthew Halsall,
Little Man,
Brothers Johnson,
Colin Newman,
Max Romeo,
Connie Case,
Skarface,
The Slits,
Lungfish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Derrick Morgan,
Sarah Menescal,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pulsallama,
Panda Bear,
Amazonics,
MDC,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sonny Sharrock,
Make Up,
Oblivians,
The American Breed,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Sherman,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.