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 Botswana and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Hoover to the funk 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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Susan Cadogan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jawbox,
Hardrive,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Simply Red,
MDC,
Blake Baxter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kaleidoscope,
Faraquet,
X-101,
Junior Murvin,
Deakin,
Sonic Youth,
a-ha,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Trojans,
Ken Boothe,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Foxx,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Kinks,
The Music Machine,
Soulsonic Force,
The Gun Club,
the Human League,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Sonics,
Amazonics,
the Germs,
Davy DMX,
Bad Manners,
The Offenders,
The Pretty Things,
Lungfish,
the Soft Cell,
Max Romeo,
Banda Bassotti,
Lee Hazlewood,
Amon Düül,
Idris Muhammad,
DJ Sneak,
Country Teasers,
Television Personalities,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mad Mike,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bill Wells,
The J.B.'s,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brothers Johnson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Angry Samoans,
The Martian,
Josef K,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.