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 Lebanon and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marc Almond to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
The New Christs,
Q and Not U,
Ice-T,
the Slits,
cv313,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joey Negro,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pole,
Bobby Sherman,
David Axelrod,
Royal Trux,
Judy Mowatt,
The Angels of Light,
Electric Prunes,
Connie Case,
Harpers Bizarre,
Leonard Cohen,
Panda Bear,
EPMD,
The Residents,
Anakelly,
Barrington Levy,
Swans,
U.S. Maple,
Parry Music,
Visage,
Godley & Creme,
John Cale,
DNA,
The J.B.'s,
The Fall,
the Normal,
Cal Tjader,
Marc Almond,
Derrick Morgan,
Make Up,
Average White Band,
Rod Modell,
B.T. Express,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gories,
Slave,
Harry Pussy,
Erasure,
Trumans Water,
Michelle Simonal,
The Mummies,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cybotron,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Beau Brummels,
Index,
Alice Coltrane,
Cameo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Neon Judgement,
Rotary Connection,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Toasters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.