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 Andorra and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Roger Hodgson to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Glambeats Corp.,
Accadde A,
Main Source,
kango's stein massive,
Ultimate Spinach,
Yellowson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Moebius,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gabor Szabo,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Detroit Cobras,
AZ,
Banda Bassotti,
The Pop Group,
Warsaw,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Moss Icon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
MC5,
Joensuu 1685,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
World's Most,
Archie Shepp,
The Flesh Eaters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
John Cale,
Roger Hodgson,
David Axelrod,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rapeman,
Tears for Fears,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeff Mills,
The Dead C,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Motorama,
Faust,
Sparks,
Average White Band,
Flipper,
The Smiths,
Simply Red,
The Index,
Spoonie Gee,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Toni Rubio,
Boredoms,
The Slackers,
Blossom Toes,
The Slits,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wings,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Livin' Joy,
The American Breed,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.