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 Togo and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lou Reed to the crunk 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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Buzzcocks,
Dark Day,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Harry Pussy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobby Byrd,
The Red Krayola,
Tears for Fears,
James White and The Blacks,
Johnny Clarke,
Gerry Rafferty,
Blake Baxter,
Arab on Radar,
The Invisible,
Blancmange,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marmalade,
Nirvana,
Nick Fraelich,
Derrick May,
U.S. Maple,
Pharoah Sanders,
A Flock of Seagulls,
New Age Steppers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Young Marble Giants,
Depeche Mode,
The Happenings,
The Offenders,
Connie Case,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sam Rivers,
Junior Murvin,
Whodini,
Stiv Bators,
Peter & Gordon,
The Monks,
Metal Thangz,
Negative Approach,
X-Ray Spex,
Motorama,
Howard Jones,
Scientists,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun Ra,
The Velvet Underground,
Prince Buster,
The Remains,
Essential Logic,
Thompson Twins,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pylon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
Erykah Badu,
Drexciya,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Jawbox,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Evens,
Television Personalities,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.