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 St Lucia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flipper,
The Residents,
Black Sheep,
Joe Finger,
Animal Collective,
Severed Heads,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Sonics,
Radio Birdman,
Masters at Work,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bootsy Collins,
The Knickerbockers,
Mission of Burma,
Kenny Larkin,
Quando Quango,
Lindisfarne,
Robert Görl,
Carl Craig,
Bobby Byrd,
Todd Rundgren,
Toni Rubio,
Tubeway Army,
Can,
Tears for Fears,
Pere Ubu,
John Coltrane,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fire Engines,
Suicide,
Groovy Waters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Amon Düül,
Ultra Naté,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dual Sessions,
Niagra,
The Modern Lovers,
Fad Gadget,
Country Teasers,
Yaz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barry Ungar,
The Red Krayola,
Joensuu 1685,
Delta 5,
Gang Starr,
X-101,
Dennis Brown,
Yellowson,
Bobby Sherman,
Roxette,
Avey Tare,
Sight & Sound,
ABBA,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Newcleus,
Jawbox,
Grey Daturas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tommy Roe,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.