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 Iran and from Salvador.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Doobie Brothers to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
La Düsseldorf,
the Soft Cell,
Big Daddy Kane,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Model 500,
The Toasters,
a-ha,
Ronan,
T. Rex,
Rotary Connection,
Hashim,
Eddi Front,
The Five Americans,
Moebius,
Pussy Galore,
Eve St. Jones,
The Human League,
Tim Buckley,
Yaz,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lebanon Hanover,
Frankie Knuckles,
cv313,
Wings,
Eurythmics,
The Standells,
David McCallum,
Quadrant,
The Wake,
Flash Fearless,
The Martian,
Sonic Youth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Scratch Acid,
Cal Tjader,
Parry Music,
Dead Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
the Human League,
UT,
DJ Style,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nas,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Black Dice,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dark Day,
Fat Boys,
The Leaves,
Accadde A,
The Moody Blues,
Desert Stars,
Sällskapet,
The Modern Lovers,
The New Christs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Soul II Soul,
The Motions,
the Association,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.