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 Afghanistan and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harmonia,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
U.S. Maple,
Saccharine Trust,
Ice-T,
The Martian,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Das Ding,
Mad Mike,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Grass Roots,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Shuggie Otis,
Deepchord,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cameo,
Rekid,
Soulsonic Force,
Severed Heads,
Gastr Del Sol,
UT,
Pharoah Sanders,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Black Moon,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lalann,
The Neon Judgement,
LL Cool J,
The Beau Brummels,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Velvet Underground,
Cymande,
Khruangbin,
Sällskapet,
Boz Scaggs,
The Barracudas,
The Index,
Glambeats Corp.,
Piero Umiliani,
Cecil Taylor,
Wally Richardson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Star Department,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Avey Tare,
Joey Negro,
Delta 5,
Skaos,
Wings,
The United States of America,
Subhumans,
The Gories,
Aloha Tigers,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.