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 India and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rufus Thomas to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Sixth Finger,
Liliput,
Sonic Youth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Pus,
Joensuu 1685,
Goldenarms,
DJ Style,
Youth Brigade,
Slick Rick,
Severed Heads,
Y Pants,
Brick,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Icehouse,
Procol Harum,
Rufus Thomas,
Flipper,
Tres Demented,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jandek,
Kayak,
Joy Division,
Shuggie Otis,
The Gun Club,
Eli Mardock,
Donny Hathaway,
Warren Ellis,
The Last Poets,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Darondo,
Wings,
Altered Images,
Pulsallama,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Banda Bassotti,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Matthew Halsall,
The Dead C,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Sonics,
Alton Ellis,
Cybotron,
Man Parrish,
Pussy Galore,
Japan,
Roxy Music,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bizarre Inc.,
Guru Guru,
Terry Callier,
The Standells,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Gladiators,
Robert Hood,
June Days,
Yaz,
Nils Olav,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Swans,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.