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 Montenegro and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 kango's stein massive to the dance 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
The Skatalites,
Fela Kuti,
Alison Limerick,
Rekid,
June of 44,
Swell Maps,
Eurythmics,
The Selecter,
The Moleskins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Surgeon,
The Stooges,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wolf Eyes,
Subhumans,
Joe Smooth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lalo Schifrin,
Erasure,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Byrd,
E-Dancer,
Model 500,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cameo,
Maurizio,
Ronnie Foster,
Malaria!,
Lungfish,
Wasted Youth,
Lindisfarne,
Susan Cadogan,
Iggy Pop,
The Dave Clark Five,
Adolescents,
Slave,
Electric Prunes,
Minnie Riperton,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dawn Penn,
Roxette,
Ultravox,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thee Headcoats,
the Germs,
Nas,
Gong,
Beasts of Bourbon,
48th St. Collective,
Black Pus,
Carl Craig,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Black Dice,
Jerry's Kids,
The Moody Blues,
Severed Heads,
Max Romeo,
Oblivians,
The Pop Group,
Lou Reed,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.