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 Swaziland and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Crooked Eye to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Faust,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ornette Coleman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Schoolly D,
The Toasters,
Suburban Knight,
Michelle Simonal,
Henry Cow,
The Stooges,
Patti Smith,
KRS-One,
Lou Christie,
Das Ding,
Eddi Front,
Con Funk Shun,
The Cramps,
Cluster,
The Fall,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jacques Brel,
Sällskapet,
Eden Ahbez,
Graham Central Station,
The Names,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Essential Logic,
The Velvet Underground,
Slave,
Scrapy,
Ice-T,
the Association,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Flag,
Index,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yellowson,
Suicide,
Kurtis Blow,
Groovy Waters,
T. Rex,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Human League,
Dave Gahan,
Gang Green,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Crash Course in Science,
Judy Mowatt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nils Olav,
Average White Band,
John Holt,
Mark Hollis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Archie Shepp,
The Slits,
The Dave Clark Five,
Man Eating Sloth,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.