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 Ghana and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 the Fania All-Stars to the grime 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
The Shadows of Knight,
JFA,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dennis Brown,
Goldenarms,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Selecter,
Tres Demented,
The Human League,
Crime,
The Doors,
Angry Samoans,
Lalann,
The Fortunes,
ABC,
Negative Approach,
The Cramps,
Black Moon,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang Starr,
Little Man,
the Sonics,
New Age Steppers,
DJ Sneak,
The Trojans,
Bob Dylan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Misunderstood,
Altered Images,
Audionom,
Matthew Bourne,
Half Japanese,
Bobby Byrd,
Pylon,
Arthur Verocai,
Neu!,
AZ,
Wings,
Graham Central Station,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Big Daddy Kane,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Con Funk Shun,
China Crisis,
Thompson Twins,
Derrick May,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Absolute Body Control,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lou Reed,
Cybotron,
Qualms,
Groovy Waters,
Blancmange,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scott Walker,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.