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 Croatia and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Sexual Harrassment to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mr. Review,
Desert Stars,
Marcia Griffiths,
a-ha,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terrestrial Tones,
Unrelated Segments,
Flamin' Groovies,
Neu!,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mo-Dettes,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Buckinghams,
Sugar Minott,
Soft Machine,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lucky Dragons,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sonic Youth,
Ken Boothe,
Scion,
The Real Kids,
Massinfluence,
Kas Product,
Eurythmics,
Eddi Front,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Grey Daturas,
Thompson Twins,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Erykah Badu,
F. McDonald,
Bobby Byrd,
Barrington Levy,
Supertramp,
The Electric Prunes,
The Red Krayola,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Underground Resistance,
Henry Cow,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Angels of Light,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Durutti Column,
Fugazi,
The Gap Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Das Ding,
the Fania All-Stars,
World's Most,
Godley & Creme,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Camberwell Now,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.