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 Austria and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Martian to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Camouflage,
Bush Tetras,
Susan Cadogan,
Mad Mike,
Smog,
The Cure,
Reuben Wilson,
Nas,
Kerrie Biddell,
Livin' Joy,
Thee Headcoats,
U.S. Maple,
Kurtis Blow,
Lungfish,
Rod Modell,
Black Moon,
Gichy Dan,
Slave,
Nick Fraelich,
Sonny Sharrock,
Von Mondo,
the Bar-Kays,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Buzzcocks,
Quadrant,
Laurel Aitken,
Piero Umiliani,
Whodini,
Soft Cell,
Slick Rick,
Pussy Galore,
The Monks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jacques Brel,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Bang On A Can,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kenny Larkin,
The Pretty Things,
Cymande,
Zero Boys,
Don Cherry,
Essential Logic,
Donny Hathaway,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Angry Samoans,
Altered Images,
Terry Callier,
ABBA,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cal Tjader,
F. McDonald,
Supertramp,
The Blues Magoos,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tears for Fears,
Banda Bassotti,
Connie Case,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.