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 Poland and from Paris.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Scan 7 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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
This Heat,
John Lydon,
The Walker Brothers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Bar-Kays,
The Barracudas,
Charles Mingus,
World's Most,
Franke,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Minnie Riperton,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kerrie Biddell,
Drexciya,
Parry Music,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Leaves,
Minny Pops,
Dark Day,
Trumans Water,
The Fire Engines,
Make Up,
Oneida,
the Swans,
Eddi Front,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Remains,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fear,
The Sound,
Hasil Adkins,
Clear Light,
Q65,
Moby Grape,
Cameo,
Hoover,
The Gun Club,
Essential Logic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minor Threat,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lucky Dragons,
The Martian,
Roger Hodgson,
Johnny Clarke,
The Birthday Party,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bill Wells,
Pantaleimon,
Average White Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Jawbox,
Girls At Our Best!,
Crash Course in Science,
Marvin Gaye,
Ten City,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Danielle Patucci,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.