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 Ukraine and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jeff Lynne to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Joy Division,
Ossler,
Steve Hackett,
L. Decosne,
Suicide,
Boz Scaggs,
Dawn Penn,
Tim Buckley,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
David Bowie,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Amazonics,
Kerri Chandler,
Clear Light,
Bush Tetras,
The Blackbyrds,
U.S. Maple,
The Raincoats,
Fad Gadget,
The Remains,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Michelle Simonal,
The Shadows of Knight,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Connie Case,
The Last Poets,
The Fugs,
Spoonie Gee,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Erykah Badu,
Ultravox,
The Zeros,
X-102,
Funky Four + One,
In Retrospect,
Popol Vuh,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harmonia,
Leonard Cohen,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Procol Harum,
OOIOO,
Ultra Naté,
Metal Thangz,
Peter & Gordon,
Yellowson,
Desert Stars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mo-Dettes,
The Electric Prunes,
Carl Craig,
The Names,
The Black Dice,
Los Fastidios,
Negative Approach,
Soul Sonic Force,
T. Rex,
Brass Construction,
The Busters,
Danielle Patucci,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.