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 United States and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin 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 Bluetip 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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
the Soft Cell,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Procol Harum,
Dark Day,
kango's stein massive,
The Mojo Men,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Matthew Halsall,
Nas,
Barbara Tucker,
The Evens,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Black Sheep,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Sherman,
Skaos,
Eden Ahbez,
Saccharine Trust,
Al Stewart,
Second Layer,
Jacob Miller,
Suicide,
Newcleus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stiv Bators,
Con Funk Shun,
Shuggie Otis,
Underground Resistance,
Curtis Mayfield,
Beasts of Bourbon,
AZ,
The Angels of Light,
Minutemen,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gregory Isaacs,
Godley & Creme,
Robert Hood,
Piero Umiliani,
Funkadelic,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Black Dice,
Lyres,
Shoche,
Hasil Adkins,
The Buckinghams,
Supertramp,
Joensuu 1685,
Chrome,
Oneida,
Negative Approach,
The Young Rascals,
Peter and Kerry,
Darondo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Roxette,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.