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 Netherlands and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 The Dirtbombs to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Neon Judgement record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
La Düsseldorf,
The Selecter,
Aaron Thompson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sällskapet,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Malaria!,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Yellowson,
Kayak,
Bobby Womack,
Urselle,
The Happenings,
Gerry Rafferty,
T. Rex,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bobby Sherman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ten City,
The Angels of Light,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Darondo,
Mission of Burma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Soft Cell,
Radio Birdman,
Mo-Dettes,
Rites of Spring,
Pet Shop Boys,
Magma,
The Last Poets,
Roxy Music,
Spandau Ballet,
Bob Dylan,
The Seeds,
Soft Cell,
Severed Heads,
X-101,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobby Byrd,
Derrick May,
The Tremeloes,
Vladislav Delay,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Public Enemy,
the Bar-Kays,
Liliput,
Gang Gang Dance,
Suicide,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joy Division,
Donny Hathaway,
K-Klass,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
LL Cool J,
Dual Sessions,
Anthony Braxton,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.