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 Malawi and from New York.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Metal Thangz to the funk 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Brick,
Lindisfarne,
Cymande,
Funkadelic,
The Golliwogs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Moody Blues,
Masters at Work,
Grauzone,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Clear Light,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Stiv Bators,
E-Dancer,
X-102,
The Searchers,
Joyce Sims,
Man Parrish,
Gang of Four,
Wire,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Goldenarms,
Sparks,
Cal Tjader,
Marmalade,
The Seeds,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultra Naté,
Gichy Dan,
Con Funk Shun,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
JFA,
La Düsseldorf,
Soft Cell,
Tommy Roe,
The Motions,
Alphaville,
Magma,
Darondo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Depeche Mode,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rekid,
Terry Callier,
Hot Snakes,
Khruangbin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marine Girls,
Eli Mardock,
Michelle Simonal,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scan 7,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Cramps,
The Dirtbombs,
Mandrill,
Blake Baxter,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.