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 Dominica and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar 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 Anakelly to the funk 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Glenn Branca,
The Kinks,
Derrick May,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Terry Callier,
Mandrill,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lyres,
Scientists,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Martian,
Banda Bassotti,
Ornette Coleman,
Model 500,
Barrington Levy,
Deakin,
Spandau Ballet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Infiniti,
Talk Talk,
Skarface,
Unwound,
Judy Mowatt,
Theoretical Girls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Monks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Henry Cow,
Wings,
The Leaves,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nick Fraelich,
David McCallum,
Radiopuhelimet,
Aaron Thompson,
Supertramp,
Q and Not U,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Howard Jones,
Dawn Penn,
Electric Prunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marshall Jefferson,
Adolescents,
The Modern Lovers,
D'Angelo,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Searchers,
Bill Wells,
Prince Buster,
Ponytail,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
EPMD,
Zero Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric Dolphy,
Scratch Acid,
Basic Channel,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.