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 Iraq and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb 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 Jimmy McGriff to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Alphaville,
Rosa Yemen,
Leonard Cohen,
Juan Atkins,
Kurtis Blow,
Tubeway Army,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Dead C,
X-101,
June of 44,
Black Sheep,
Arthur Verocai,
The Sound,
FM Einheit,
Pere Ubu,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cowsills,
Echospace,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Aaron Thompson,
The Birthday Party,
Sällskapet,
Unrelated Segments,
Carl Craig,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Moebius,
Roy Ayers,
Thee Headcoats,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Pop Group,
Radiohead,
Warren Ellis,
LL Cool J,
Zero Boys,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Vogues,
Laurel Aitken,
Eden Ahbez,
It's A Beautiful Day,
John Holt,
Glenn Branca,
Basic Channel,
Cymande,
Byron Stingily,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pylon,
Heaven 17,
Circle Jerks,
Livin' Joy,
A Certain Ratio,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Cale,
T. Rex,
Pussy Galore,
Rod Modell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sonics,
Barrington Levy,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.