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 Ethiopia and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pantaleimon to the funk 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Stockholm Monsters,
Animal Collective,
Main Source,
Sun Ra,
Eric Copeland,
Terry Callier,
Mantronix,
Fear,
Make Up,
Drexciya,
T.S.O.L.,
Porter Ricks,
Sonic Youth,
B.T. Express,
The Names,
Jawbox,
Bobby Byrd,
Spoonie Gee,
Audionom,
Popol Vuh,
Neu!,
Accadde A,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rosa Yemen,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wings,
Model 500,
The Vogues,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultravox,
Michelle Simonal,
Pantaleimon,
Goldenarms,
DNA,
The Sound,
Boogie Down Productions,
Idris Muhammad,
Arab on Radar,
The Divine Comedy,
Roy Ayers,
Delon & Dalcan,
X-101,
Bootsy Collins,
Monolake,
Oblivians,
The Smiths,
Man Parrish,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Godley & Creme,
Tears for Fears,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Panda Bear,
The Seeds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobby Sherman,
Vladislav Delay,
The Standells,
Byron Stingily,
Big Daddy Kane,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.