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 Chile and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
The Evens,
Outsiders,
Rod Modell,
Trumans Water,
Buzzcocks,
Alton Ellis,
the Association,
Nico,
Cybotron,
Faust,
Ten City,
Joey Negro,
Shuggie Otis,
The Monks,
Eddi Front,
Quando Quango,
Gil Scott Heron,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Archie Shepp,
Gang Green,
The Doors,
Bang On A Can,
John Lydon,
Visage,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Martian,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Velvet Underground,
Blancmange,
L. Decosne,
Hot Snakes,
The Human League,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gang Gang Dance,
Slave,
Funky Four + One,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Parry Music,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Residents,
Tim Buckley,
Matthew Halsall,
Harmonia,
Black Sheep,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
A Certain Ratio,
Minor Threat,
Tropical Tobacco,
Delon & Dalcan,
Michelle Simonal,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lebanon Hanover,
EPMD,
The Victims,
Icehouse,
Althea and Donna,
Essential Logic,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.