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 Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nik Kershaw to the punk 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
Pagans,
Skarface,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Neon Judgement,
the Fania All-Stars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hasil Adkins,
Chris & Cosey,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Television,
Livin' Joy,
Eddi Front,
Robert Görl,
Rotary Connection,
Derrick May,
Silicon Teens,
The Names,
Skriet,
Sparks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ludus,
the Sonics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jerry's Kids,
the Normal,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Move,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
Matthew Halsall,
The Mojo Men,
Marine Girls,
Donny Hathaway,
John Cale,
Ohio Players,
Letta Mbulu,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Human League,
the Bar-Kays,
Flash Fearless,
Youth Brigade,
Steve Hackett,
Eric Copeland,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ornette Coleman,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
June of 44,
Minny Pops,
Fluxion,
Soul II Soul,
Y Pants,
Das Ding,
Reagan Youth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eurythmics,
New York Dolls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.