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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 In Retrospect to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
D'Angelo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Interpol,
Livin' Joy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Trumans Water,
Symarip,
One Last Wish,
Idris Muhammad,
Tears for Fears,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Hot Snakes,
T.S.O.L.,
David Bowie,
KRS-One,
Todd Rundgren,
K-Klass,
Mad Mike,
Mo-Dettes,
Al Stewart,
Can,
Slave,
Jawbox,
Sight & Sound,
Soft Machine,
The Doors,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rufus Thomas,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
JFA,
June Days,
Mission of Burma,
Bootsy Collins,
Slick Rick,
Massinfluence,
Sound Behaviour,
Faust,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yusef Lateef,
Chrome,
Whodini,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harry Pussy,
Basic Channel,
Leonard Cohen,
Blancmange,
Talk Talk,
The Sonics,
The Buckinghams,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Moleskins,
Glenn Branca,
Bill Near,
Scientists,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Minor Threat,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.