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 Singapore and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bremen.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jeru the Damaja to the techno 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Smoke,
Kas Product,
Tres Demented,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Red Krayola,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
K-Klass,
The Dead C,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Last Poets,
The Mummies,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Trumans Water,
Depeche Mode,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joy Division,
Organ,
Yazoo,
John Coltrane,
Wolf Eyes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Unwound,
Young Marble Giants,
Stetsasonic,
The Gun Club,
Roger Hodgson,
Marmalade,
E-Dancer,
a-ha,
Grandmaster Flash,
Guru Guru,
Brand Nubian,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Doors,
June Days,
Angry Samoans,
Radiohead,
Godley & Creme,
Section 25,
The Black Dice,
Smog,
Black Flag,
Dawn Penn,
U.S. Maple,
Magma,
Can,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yaz,
Byron Stingily,
Bauhaus,
Moss Icon,
Shuggie Otis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Alice Coltrane,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Slits,
Idris Muhammad,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Terry Callier,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ultravox,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.