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 Bahrain and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Scion to the punk 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Vogues,
Organ,
The Black Dice,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lou Christie,
Soft Cell,
Thee Headcoats,
Excepter,
Peter and Kerry,
T.S.O.L.,
Sound Behaviour,
Matthew Halsall,
Moss Icon,
Infiniti,
Marcia Griffiths,
cv313,
Negative Approach,
Donald Byrd,
The Monochrome Set,
The Velvet Underground,
Amazonics,
10cc,
Eddi Front,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Dead C,
Wings,
LL Cool J,
The Offenders,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Detroit Cobras,
Clear Light,
The Smoke,
Harmonia,
Second Layer,
Spandau Ballet,
Oneida,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Standells,
Trumans Water,
Crooked Eye,
Delon & Dalcan,
Boredoms,
Alton Ellis,
Cecil Taylor,
Eden Ahbez,
Eric Copeland,
Roxy Music,
Nirvana,
June Days,
Radiopuhelimet,
Franke,
ABC,
Ice-T,
Dual Sessions,
Television Personalities,
Black Bananas,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Slits,
Ituana,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobby Byrd,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.