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 South Africa and from Seoul.
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 Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gang Green to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Bill Near,
Cybotron,
Fatback Band,
Leonard Cohen,
The Last Poets,
Matthew Bourne,
Simply Red,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soul II Soul,
Lou Reed,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dirtbombs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Roxy Music,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pussy Galore,
Silicon Teens,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Country Teasers,
Yellowson,
Faust,
Suburban Knight,
Drexciya,
Masters at Work,
Chris & Cosey,
Ohio Players,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Symarip,
Althea and Donna,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Zeros,
The American Breed,
Eve St. Jones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roy Ayers,
Outsiders,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
James White and The Blacks,
Flamin' Groovies,
R.M.O.,
Jeff Lynne,
Davy DMX,
Funky Four + One,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dual Sessions,
The Litter,
Ultravox,
Jawbox,
Rapeman,
Todd Terry,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cameo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Josef K,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lindisfarne,
Jeff Mills,
The Monks,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.