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 Portugal and from London.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
The Blues Magoos,
Isaac Hayes,
Organ,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Soft Cell,
Lakeside,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultimate Spinach,
Chrome,
The Blackbyrds,
Prince Buster,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Monks,
Essential Logic,
Hardrive,
Matthew Bourne,
Mark Hollis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Patti Smith,
June of 44,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eve St. Jones,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bob Dylan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Shuggie Otis,
Sparks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joe Smooth,
Faust,
Reagan Youth,
The Remains,
The Cure,
R.M.O.,
The Index,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mad Mike,
U.S. Maple,
X-Ray Spex,
Electric Prunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Misunderstood,
Duran Duran,
The Slackers,
Skarface,
Bobby Byrd,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ossler,
Porter Ricks,
The Associates,
Intrusion,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Man Eating Sloth,
Robert Görl,
Depeche Mode,
Khruangbin,
EPMD,
The Barracudas,
The Zeros,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.