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 Mauritius and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Terry Callier to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Drive Like Jehu,
The J.B.'s,
Tom Boy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Deakin,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Barracudas,
Kas Product,
Zero Boys,
The Mummies,
Scrapy,
Man Parrish,
Alison Limerick,
Man Eating Sloth,
U.S. Maple,
Big Daddy Kane,
Judy Mowatt,
Agitation Free,
F. McDonald,
Lalann,
Chrome,
The Residents,
Crime,
Siglo XX,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Carl Craig,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Beau Brummels,
Anakelly,
Marc Almond,
UT,
Fear,
The Count Five,
Scientists,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sight & Sound,
The Young Rascals,
Steve Hackett,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Cramps,
Livin' Joy,
Angry Samoans,
Toni Rubio,
Subhumans,
The Seeds,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Surgeon,
Todd Terry,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rakim,
The Buckinghams,
Reagan Youth,
The Moody Blues,
The Real Kids,
Mary Jane Girls,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ludus,
Neil Young,
Nirvana,
David Bowie,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.