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 El Salvador and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro 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 Heaven 17 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Aloha Tigers,
Ohio Players,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Archie Shepp,
Sly & The Family Stone,
David McCallum,
Juan Atkins,
Chris & Cosey,
Kaleidoscope,
Mr. Review,
The Last Poets,
Camouflage,
La Düsseldorf,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Charles Mingus,
John Holt,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Five Americans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Country Teasers,
Khruangbin,
Gang Green,
Second Layer,
Suburban Knight,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fela Kuti,
The Seeds,
Tres Demented,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cluster,
Connie Case,
Infiniti,
Kenny Larkin,
Letta Mbulu,
The Smoke,
Flipper,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
EPMD,
MDC,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ronnie Foster,
Thee Headcoats,
Rufus Thomas,
Henry Cow,
The Black Dice,
Lindisfarne,
Dead Boys,
Grauzone,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
F. McDonald,
Lower 48,
Y Pants,
Boz Scaggs,
Duran Duran,
Simply Red,
Fat Boys,
Cybotron,
Technova,
Barry Ungar,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.