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 Kuwait and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Erasure,
Derrick Morgan,
The New Christs,
Stereo Dub,
Bush Tetras,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Mummies,
LL Cool J,
The Saints,
AZ,
Half Japanese,
Joensuu 1685,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Soft Cell,
Agent Orange,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jawbox,
Stetsasonic,
Sällskapet,
Crispy Ambulance,
Donny Hathaway,
John Holt,
Second Layer,
Mr. Review,
Unwound,
Joyce Sims,
Nik Kershaw,
Sun Ra,
Spandau Ballet,
Soulsonic Force,
DNA,
Tomorrow,
Radio Birdman,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Toasters,
Eli Mardock,
Quantec,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Isaac Hayes,
Piero Umiliani,
D'Angelo,
Con Funk Shun,
Faraquet,
Lalann,
Blossom Toes,
Icehouse,
Dark Day,
Massinfluence,
Steve Hackett,
The Litter,
Charles Mingus,
R.M.O.,
Tears for Fears,
Mission of Burma,
Leonard Cohen,
Jacques Brel,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.