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 Turkey and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb 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 The Gap Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Lightning Bolt,
Second Layer,
The Litter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ultimate Spinach,
Susan Cadogan,
Oneida,
Bob Dylan,
The Cure,
Negative Approach,
Shuggie Otis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lucky Dragons,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gichy Dan,
Lou Reed,
Motorama,
AZ,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tears for Fears,
David Axelrod,
Vainqueur,
Procol Harum,
Chris Corsano,
Scientists,
Lou Christie,
The Electric Prunes,
The Vogues,
Mad Mike,
Model 500,
Quantec,
Buzzcocks,
Ossler,
Joe Finger,
Freddie Wadling,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pole,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Swell Maps,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Joyce Sims,
The Dirtbombs,
Cecil Taylor,
Carl Craig,
Sparks,
Flash Fearless,
Urselle,
Half Japanese,
Barrington Levy,
Scott Walker,
Stereo Dub,
Soulsonic Force,
Moss Icon,
Scan 7,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
Rakim,
The Real Kids,
Vladislav Delay,
Von Mondo,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.