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 Gabon and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Joyce Sims 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Black Moon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Parry Music,
Donald Byrd,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Germs,
Easy Going,
Chris & Cosey,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pere Ubu,
Lightning Bolt,
Model 500,
Stetsasonic,
Dark Day,
Ronnie Foster,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Prunes,
Hashim,
Marvin Gaye,
Moby Grape,
the Fania All-Stars,
Graham Central Station,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Womack,
Qualms,
Crime,
Roger Hodgson,
Ohio Players,
Crooked Eye,
DJ Sneak,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Quantec,
Neu!,
Circle Jerks,
The Busters,
Outsiders,
ABC,
The Wake,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Angels of Light,
Magma,
Kerrie Biddell,
Chris Corsano,
Index,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Y Pants,
Monolake,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Fall,
Zapp,
The Searchers,
Procol Harum,
Aloha Tigers,
Bronski Beat,
Gang Green,
The American Breed,
Interpol,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.