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 Greece and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 8 Eyed Spy to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
The Litter,
Moby Grape,
The Kinks,
Eden Ahbez,
Jerry's Kids,
the Human League,
Shuggie Otis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The American Breed,
Delta 5,
The Velvet Underground,
Q65,
Ken Boothe,
Sam Rivers,
The Five Americans,
Funky Four + One,
Swell Maps,
Boredoms,
Chrome,
The United States of America,
Bobby Hutcherson,
X-102,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cheater Slicks,
The Evens,
Infiniti,
The Blues Magoos,
Radiopuhelimet,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Byrd,
Bobby Womack,
Minutemen,
Traffic Nightmare,
Freddie Wadling,
8 Eyed Spy,
Howard Jones,
Mission of Burma,
Flash Fearless,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Doors,
Sex Pistols,
JFA,
Gang Starr,
Camberwell Now,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joey Negro,
Avey Tare,
Eurythmics,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pantytec,
The Angels of Light,
Wings,
Section 25,
The Remains,
Marine Girls,
Tubeway Army,
Mo-Dettes,
Marmalade,
The Fuzztones,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.