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 Uzbekistan and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 New Age Steppers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s 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 Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Rakim,
Shoche,
Tommy Roe,
The Pretty Things,
The Real Kids,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Adolescents,
Guru Guru,
FM Einheit,
Davy DMX,
The Tremeloes,
Darondo,
Alice Coltrane,
Peter and Kerry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tres Demented,
Stereo Dub,
Wings,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Human League,
Joensuu 1685,
Fugazi,
Inner City,
The Invisible,
Unwound,
Tomorrow,
Lebanon Hanover,
Massinfluence,
Excepter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
DJ Sneak,
Smog,
The Young Rascals,
Masters at Work,
Joe Smooth,
Janne Schatter,
Freddie Wadling,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Normal,
Terry Callier,
Franke,
Can,
Tubeway Army,
Patti Smith,
Skaos,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Buckinghams,
Zero Boys,
Bush Tetras,
Ornette Coleman,
Y Pants,
Don Cherry,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Liliput,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marmalade,
June Days,
Sister Nancy,
The Offenders,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.