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 Niger and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ 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 Jimmy McGriff 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Grandmaster Flash,
Echospace,
The Fuzztones,
The Index,
Metal Thangz,
Erykah Badu,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sight & Sound,
Yaz,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roxy Music,
Bobby Sherman,
Deadbeat,
Radiohead,
The Wake,
Jerry's Kids,
Blossom Toes,
June Days,
Symarip,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Five Americans,
Cheater Slicks,
Nils Olav,
JFA,
The United States of America,
Chris & Cosey,
Scott Walker,
Scratch Acid,
Freddie Wadling,
Liliput,
The Searchers,
Malaria!,
The Young Rascals,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jacques Brel,
Deakin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amon Düül,
The Beau Brummels,
the Germs,
Negative Approach,
Motorama,
Tubeway Army,
KRS-One,
Harry Pussy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gang Gang Dance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Excepter,
Wolf Eyes,
MC5,
Letta Mbulu,
Quadrant,
the Human League,
Anakelly,
Barbara Tucker,
Country Teasers,
Terry Callier,
World's Most,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.