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 Angola and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Brand Nubian to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Heaven 17,
Danielle Patucci,
Circle Jerks,
Delta 5,
Ponytail,
The Smoke,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Agent Orange,
The Residents,
Nico,
Shoche,
Freddie Wadling,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Vainqueur,
Janne Schatter,
David McCallum,
Kas Product,
Joe Smooth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
T.S.O.L.,
Sun City Girls,
Blancmange,
Electric Prunes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ken Boothe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lightning Bolt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New Order,
The Moleskins,
Junior Murvin,
Alice Coltrane,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Glenn Branca,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The New Christs,
Erasure,
Mark Hollis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lou Christie,
Urselle,
Robert Wyatt,
FM Einheit,
The Skatalites,
Kayak,
Hoover,
Japan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scrapy,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Remains,
Ultravox,
Mary Jane Girls,
Q and Not U,
10cc,
Bootsy Collins,
The Walker Brothers,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.