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 Saudi Arabia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Alice Coltrane to the dance 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Scion,
The Count Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Buckinghams,
Technova,
Khruangbin,
Kerri Chandler,
Joy Division,
Malaria!,
Barrington Levy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Blancmange,
Kevin Saunderson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Wyatt,
Henry Cow,
Procol Harum,
Rites of Spring,
Funkadelic,
Sällskapet,
Organ,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bush Tetras,
Das Ding,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gabor Szabo,
The Beau Brummels,
Masters at Work,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Swans,
The Fire Engines,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kaleidoscope,
Chris Corsano,
Lower 48,
Royal Trux,
Glenn Branca,
The Velvet Underground,
Massinfluence,
Sonic Youth,
Urselle,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Terry Callier,
The Selecter,
Zapp,
Reuben Wilson,
Judy Mowatt,
Max Romeo,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
cv313,
Amon Düül,
The Blackbyrds,
Camouflage,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Fugs,
Todd Rundgren,
the Slits,
Black Pus,
The Martian,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.