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 East Timor and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Warren Ellis to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Warsaw,
Ituana,
Icehouse,
The Remains,
The Red Krayola,
Amon Düül II,
Agent Orange,
U.S. Maple,
The Trojans,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Last Poets,
Lyres,
Mandrill,
The Beau Brummels,
Hashim,
The Fire Engines,
Tom Boy,
Faust,
Skaos,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Minutemen,
Ash Ra Tempel,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Flipper,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Raincoats,
The Mummies,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Blossom Toes,
Ultravox,
Slave,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sex Pistols,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gories,
Grandmaster Flash,
Steve Hackett,
Eddi Front,
In Retrospect,
Deadbeat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tommy Roe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ossler,
The Smoke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Bar-Kays,
Funky Four + One,
Desert Stars,
Essential Logic,
LL Cool J,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Human League,
John Coltrane,
Quando Quango,
Terrestrial Tones,
Massinfluence,
Flash Fearless,
Moby Grape,
Brothers Johnson,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.