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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar 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 Archie Shepp to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Neil Young,
Radiopuhelimet,
Warsaw,
Tomorrow,
Deepchord,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soft Machine,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nick Fraelich,
New York Dolls,
Altered Images,
Fat Boys,
Mars,
Albert Ayler,
Ralphi Rosario,
Alphaville,
The Fire Engines,
John Coltrane,
Throbbing Gristle,
The J.B.'s,
The Angels of Light,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Delta 5,
Rotary Connection,
Livin' Joy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Grey Daturas,
Second Layer,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Dead C,
Pierre Henry,
Jacques Brel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pere Ubu,
Thompson Twins,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Peter and Kerry,
Harry Pussy,
Youth Brigade,
The Fortunes,
Tubeway Army,
Von Mondo,
Inner City,
Spandau Ballet,
Neu!,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Star Department,
Fugazi,
The Detroit Cobras,
Popol Vuh,
T. Rex,
Bauhaus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Q65,
Kenny Larkin,
DNA,
Stereo Dub,
Sällskapet,
Sex Pistols,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.