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 Bahamas and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
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 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Erasure,
The Evens,
the Normal,
Marvin Gaye,
Cheater Slicks,
Funkadelic,
Fear,
Quantec,
Crispy Ambulance,
E-Dancer,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Real Kids,
Kool Moe Dee,
Heaven 17,
Rufus Thomas,
Thee Headcoats,
The Velvet Underground,
Scott Walker,
Swans,
F. McDonald,
Ultravox,
Sister Nancy,
Television,
Amon Düül II,
Youth Brigade,
Man Eating Sloth,
Spoonie Gee,
The Cramps,
The Names,
Sam Rivers,
Zapp,
Electric Prunes,
Fugazi,
Quando Quango,
Accadde A,
Don Cherry,
Brick,
Prince Buster,
Motorama,
New Order,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Beau Brummels,
Mad Mike,
Dead Boys,
Scan 7,
In Retrospect,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rapeman,
Sarah Menescal,
Second Layer,
Godley & Creme,
Thompson Twins,
Masters at Work,
Swell Maps,
the Soft Cell,
Sonny Sharrock,
Frankie Knuckles,
UT,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Donald Byrd,
China Crisis,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.