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 Solomon Islands and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 David Bowie 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 Deadbeat to the dance 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Rod Modell,
Lalo Schifrin,
Motorama,
Rekid,
The Moody Blues,
Big Daddy Kane,
Minutemen,
Unwound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fatback Band,
The Saints,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Golliwogs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Panda Bear,
Barrington Levy,
Roxette,
Surgeon,
Todd Rundgren,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Moebius,
The Offenders,
Das Ding,
EPMD,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Victims,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Al Stewart,
Symarip,
Ornette Coleman,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Parry Music,
Jeff Lynne,
U.S. Maple,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
FM Einheit,
X-102,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lucky Dragons,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Smoke,
Aloha Tigers,
Skaos,
Erasure,
Massinfluence,
Dennis Brown,
Ten City,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Drexciya,
Rakim,
Fort Wilson Riot,
La Düsseldorf,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Vogues,
Grandmaster Flash,
D'Angelo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Funky Four + One,
Dual Sessions,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.