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 Chad and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marcia Griffiths to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
U.S. Maple,
Guru Guru,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Liliput,
Byron Stingily,
Franke,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Andrew Hill,
Ronan,
Minutemen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Womack,
Althea and Donna,
Soulsonic Force,
Crispian St. Peters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Spoonie Gee,
Darondo,
Flash Fearless,
Sällskapet,
T.S.O.L.,
The Victims,
The Buckinghams,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Robert Görl,
Albert Ayler,
The Beau Brummels,
Sight & Sound,
Lungfish,
Loose Ends,
Motorama,
JFA,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wasted Youth,
Basic Channel,
Prince Buster,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smiths,
Television,
Leonard Cohen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Johnny Clarke,
Thompson Twins,
Duran Duran,
Dawn Penn,
Skarface,
Spandau Ballet,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Smoke,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Talk Talk,
Graham Central Station,
Bang On A Can,
Al Stewart,
The Human League,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.