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 Venezuela and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mr. Review 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
The Dead C,
Angry Samoans,
Monks,
Letta Mbulu,
Ponytail,
Pet Shop Boys,
ABBA,
Public Image Ltd.,
Panda Bear,
The Pop Group,
Theoretical Girls,
Cluster,
Eurythmics,
the Association,
Suburban Knight,
Barrington Levy,
The Neon Judgement,
Mark Hollis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
World's Most,
Iggy Pop,
Anakelly,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Standells,
Babytalk,
Schoolly D,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eve St. Jones,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gastr Del Sol,
Janne Schatter,
Rotary Connection,
Deadbeat,
Echospace,
Pantaleimon,
The Count Five,
Basic Channel,
Nirvana,
The Evens,
Roxette,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Monochrome Set,
Steve Hackett,
Ultravox,
La Düsseldorf,
Liliput,
Connie Case,
Maleditus Sound,
Surgeon,
Graham Central Station,
Niagra,
Darondo,
Young Marble Giants,
Lee Hazlewood,
The New Christs,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Skatalites,
Intrusion,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.