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 Somalia and from Lagos.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron 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 Malaria! to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Theoretical Girls,
Sparks,
Thee Headcoats,
Glenn Branca,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
10cc,
X-102,
Second Layer,
Camouflage,
Faraquet,
The Sonics,
Radio Birdman,
Archie Shepp,
Swans,
The Young Rascals,
Lakeside,
The Dirtbombs,
The Last Poets,
Al Stewart,
The Slits,
The Invisible,
Kool Moe Dee,
Letta Mbulu,
The Velvet Underground,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Davy DMX,
Au Pairs,
Malaria!,
The Slackers,
Joyce Sims,
Pulsallama,
Soft Machine,
Gang Starr,
Fatback Band,
Groovy Waters,
Arcadia,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Wasted Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Alphaville,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tom Boy,
The Associates,
DJ Style,
Fat Boys,
Rites of Spring,
T. Rex,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Soul II Soul,
The Smiths,
The Durutti Column,
Big Daddy Kane,
Thompson Twins,
One Last Wish,
The Knickerbockers,
Wolf Eyes,
The Star Department,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.