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 Venezuela and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord 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 Symarip to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Raincoats,
Jeff Lynne,
Section 25,
the Sonics,
Erasure,
The Doors,
Deepchord,
Frankie Knuckles,
June of 44,
Yaz,
The Knickerbockers,
Faust,
Boz Scaggs,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Matthew Bourne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Adolescents,
Stetsasonic,
The Young Rascals,
Quantec,
T.S.O.L.,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quadrant,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
FM Einheit,
Thee Headcoats,
Roxette,
The Pop Group,
Essential Logic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joyce Sims,
Crime,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Invisible,
Yellowson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bootsy Collins,
Swans,
Godley & Creme,
Scott Walker,
Wings,
The Blackbyrds,
EPMD,
Cybotron,
Nick Fraelich,
The Busters,
Tubeway Army,
Scrapy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Standells,
Joe Smooth,
New York Dolls,
Mars,
The Residents,
The Smiths,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The American Breed,
The Cure,
Eli Mardock,
Jerry's Kids,
Scan 7,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.