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 Mongolia 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 rhodes 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 The Fall to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
LL Cool J,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Chris Corsano,
ABBA,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scan 7,
Eric Dolphy,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Gap Band,
Outsiders,
Make Up,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Misunderstood,
Rakim,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Television Personalities,
Essential Logic,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Harpers Bizarre,
John Coltrane,
The Blackbyrds,
Kenny Larkin,
Visage,
Television,
Wasted Youth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nils Olav,
Eurythmics,
John Lydon,
Pylon,
Sight & Sound,
James White and The Blacks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Arab on Radar,
Josef K,
Nik Kershaw,
the Normal,
X-101,
Suicide,
Barbara Tucker,
Avey Tare,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brass Construction,
Livin' Joy,
Cymande,
Ice-T,
Bad Manners,
The Divine Comedy,
Von Mondo,
Barrington Levy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
K-Klass,
Faraquet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.