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 Antigua and from Tokyo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 PIL to the electroclash 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Y Pants,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marvin Gaye,
The Five Americans,
Suburban Knight,
Carl Craig,
The Dead C,
The Grass Roots,
Marcia Griffiths,
OOIOO,
The Star Department,
The Names,
Porter Ricks,
Faust,
Circle Jerks,
Althea and Donna,
Joey Negro,
Idris Muhammad,
Gang Green,
Minutemen,
Kas Product,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brothers Johnson,
This Heat,
DNA,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fire Engines,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Erykah Badu,
Dark Day,
Laurel Aitken,
David Axelrod,
The Motions,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scrapy,
T. Rex,
Jacques Brel,
U.S. Maple,
Flipper,
Parry Music,
Camberwell Now,
Boredoms,
Glenn Branca,
Wally Richardson,
Kayak,
Arthur Verocai,
Jesper Dahlback,
David McCallum,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang of Four,
The Divine Comedy,
Roxette,
Sonic Youth,
Cybotron,
Duran Duran,
The American Breed,
Absolute Body Control,
Half Japanese,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.