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 Kosovo and from Bremen.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Andrew Hill to the techno 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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Eli Mardock,
Althea and Donna,
Leonard Cohen,
Motorama,
Patti Smith,
Urselle,
Franke,
cv313,
The Barracudas,
The Human League,
Second Layer,
The Cramps,
James White and The Blacks,
D'Angelo,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Kinks,
Kurtis Blow,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
F. McDonald,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scion,
Byron Stingily,
Stereo Dub,
Glambeats Corp.,
R.M.O.,
Main Source,
Alison Limerick,
Bronski Beat,
Eve St. Jones,
Hashim,
Grey Daturas,
Jerry's Kids,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sandy B,
Wire,
Theoretical Girls,
Danielle Patucci,
Bizarre Inc.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harry Pussy,
Boz Scaggs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Inner City,
Moby Grape,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dirtbombs,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Subhumans,
John Cale,
Nirvana,
Harmonia,
Liliput,
Flipper,
Suburban Knight,
Sixth Finger,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Livin' Joy,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.