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 Kenya and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kerrie Biddell to the funk 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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Barry Ungar,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kurtis Blow,
Quantec,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gang Green,
Saccharine Trust,
Minor Threat,
The Seeds,
Qualms,
June Days,
Shoche,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultra Naté,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Panda Bear,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grey Daturas,
Rites of Spring,
Crime,
Aaron Thompson,
Lungfish,
The Sound,
Lalann,
Bootsy Collins,
Section 25,
Icehouse,
Yazoo,
David Bowie,
Bob Dylan,
Pagans,
Scott Walker,
Arcadia,
Dead Boys,
The Fugs,
The Tremeloes,
Michelle Simonal,
Erykah Badu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Young Rascals,
John Foxx,
Robert Görl,
The Gun Club,
Mr. Review,
cv313,
Sandy B,
Eddi Front,
Chris Corsano,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Henry Cow,
Massinfluence,
Jacob Miller,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Janne Schatter,
The Electric Prunes,
Theoretical Girls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T.S.O.L.,
T. Rex,
Hardrive,
Gong,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.