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 Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Eve St. Jones to the disco 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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
The Electric Prunes,
Tomorrow,
Ultravox,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
La Düsseldorf,
Essential Logic,
Simply Red,
Ralphi Rosario,
48th St. Collective,
Bauhaus,
Dennis Brown,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wasted Youth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Underground Resistance,
Reagan Youth,
Jandek,
Gichy Dan,
Sixth Finger,
This Heat,
Sugar Minott,
Excepter,
Bush Tetras,
EPMD,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sällskapet,
Royal Trux,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Steve Hackett,
Stetsasonic,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lakeside,
Nico,
Fear,
Theoretical Girls,
Niagra,
Radio Birdman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Patti Smith,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Junior Murvin,
Faust,
Joyce Sims,
The Doobie Brothers,
Boz Scaggs,
Second Layer,
The Shadows of Knight,
Arab on Radar,
Shuggie Otis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Franke,
Iggy Pop,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Black Dice,
The Velvet Underground,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.