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 Azerbaijan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Panda Bear,
Archie Shepp,
Jandek,
Donald Byrd,
New Age Steppers,
Roger Hodgson,
The Tremeloes,
Eddi Front,
Suicide,
CMW,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Charles Mingus,
Rakim,
UT,
Simply Red,
The Monks,
Joe Smooth,
Urselle,
Boogie Down Productions,
Amon Düül,
Barbara Tucker,
Chrome,
Skriet,
Symarip,
Boz Scaggs,
Heaven 17,
Arab on Radar,
The Mojo Men,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Toni Rubio,
Scott Walker,
One Last Wish,
Monks,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Soft Cell,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scientists,
Curtis Mayfield,
Anakelly,
Grey Daturas,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sound Behaviour,
Excepter,
the Germs,
Leonard Cohen,
Todd Rundgren,
Sonic Youth,
John Cale,
The Toasters,
The Victims,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Thompson Twins,
The Pop Group,
a-ha,
The Moody Blues,
Skarface,
Dennis Brown,
Country Teasers,
MDC,
Eve St. Jones,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.