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 Venezuela and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 The Fuzztones to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Silicon Teens,
Hoover,
Deadbeat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boz Scaggs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The New Christs,
Theoretical Girls,
Ten City,
Wasted Youth,
David Axelrod,
Babytalk,
Urselle,
China Crisis,
AZ,
Ice-T,
Saccharine Trust,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Human League,
Joensuu 1685,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dirtbombs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marmalade,
The Fugs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Audionom,
The Moleskins,
Circle Jerks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rites of Spring,
Ultra Naté,
Al Stewart,
Blake Baxter,
Barclay James Harvest,
David McCallum,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Khruangbin,
Easy Going,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Electric Prunes,
Gabor Szabo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Davy DMX,
Delon & Dalcan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Don Cherry,
Surgeon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Loose Ends,
Faust,
Amon Düül,
Brick,
Tim Buckley,
Second Layer,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.