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 Afghanistan and from London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kaleidoscope,
Roy Ayers,
Wolf Eyes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Flash Fearless,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Iggy Pop,
Tubeway Army,
The Cramps,
Goldenarms,
Joyce Sims,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Motions,
Audionom,
The Trojans,
Los Fastidios,
Soft Cell,
Peter & Gordon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crispy Ambulance,
Vainqueur,
Barclay James Harvest,
Masters at Work,
FM Einheit,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Yazoo,
The Gladiators,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Essential Logic,
David Bowie,
F. McDonald,
Buzzcocks,
Slick Rick,
Guru Guru,
Echospace,
John Lydon,
Gang Green,
Swell Maps,
Minnie Riperton,
Clear Light,
Faust,
Supertramp,
One Last Wish,
Lakeside,
Hasil Adkins,
Yaz,
Black Bananas,
Funky Four + One,
Joy Division,
LL Cool J,
Von Mondo,
The Zeros,
Niagra,
The Toasters,
Aural Exciters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soft Machine,
Lou Reed,
Crispian St. Peters,
Michelle Simonal,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.