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 Mauritania and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin 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 Zapp to the rap 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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Silicon Teens,
Crispy Ambulance,
Max Romeo,
Robert Hood,
Aloha Tigers,
Trumans Water,
Oneida,
Ludus,
L. Decosne,
Faust,
Kurtis Blow,
The Searchers,
The Sound,
Das Ding,
The Techniques,
Interpol,
Bobby Byrd,
kango's stein massive,
Siglo XX,
Country Joe & The Fish,
JFA,
B.T. Express,
Buzzcocks,
H. Thieme,
Flamin' Groovies,
Man Eating Sloth,
Malaria!,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Blackbyrds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cure,
Sight & Sound,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joe Finger,
Alton Ellis,
Electric Prunes,
Cluster,
Can,
KRS-One,
The Human League,
Stetsasonic,
Mo-Dettes,
Hashim,
K-Klass,
The Durutti Column,
The Star Department,
Dorothy Ashby,
Monolake,
Iggy Pop,
The Doors,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ultra Naté,
Sparks,
The Martian,
The Evens,
Roy Ayers,
Aswad,
Danielle Patucci,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Judy Mowatt,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.