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 Beijing.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin 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 This Heat to the jazz 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
Shuggie Otis,
The Index,
The Pretty Things,
Beasts of Bourbon,
X-101,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yusef Lateef,
Howard Jones,
The Saints,
Subhumans,
Joey Negro,
Panda Bear,
the Swans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Magma,
The Pop Group,
Suburban Knight,
The United States of America,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
cv313,
Funkadelic,
Tears for Fears,
ABC,
Marvin Gaye,
Terry Callier,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Neon Judgement,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Grey Daturas,
La Düsseldorf,
The Evens,
Gang Green,
Excepter,
The Kinks,
Davy DMX,
The Names,
Young Marble Giants,
Ten City,
World's Most,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang of Four,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
June Days,
Ronan,
D'Angelo,
Visage,
Desert Stars,
Andrew Hill,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Human League,
The Slackers,
Newcleus,
Tom Boy,
Lyres,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.