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 Grenada and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Saints 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
La Düsseldorf,
Crash Course in Science,
D'Angelo,
Man Eating Sloth,
The J.B.'s,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Brass Construction,
Arcadia,
The Evens,
Morten Harket,
Dark Day,
Fluxion,
The Neon Judgement,
Byron Stingily,
Alton Ellis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Sällskapet,
Tom Boy,
Lungfish,
Yazoo,
Crispy Ambulance,
cv313,
The Walker Brothers,
Television,
Royal Trux,
Sandy B,
Todd Terry,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lalann,
Davy DMX,
Nirvana,
Duran Duran,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harpers Bizarre,
Excepter,
Dawn Penn,
Eric Copeland,
Charles Mingus,
Derrick Morgan,
Flash Fearless,
Amon Düül II,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Slick Rick,
Second Layer,
Judy Mowatt,
F. McDonald,
Scan 7,
Howard Jones,
Bluetip,
Susan Cadogan,
Pierre Henry,
B.T. Express,
Donald Byrd,
Crime,
Janne Schatter,
David Bowie,
Bob Dylan,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.