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 Nicaragua and from Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 June Days to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Intrusion,
X-Ray Spex,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Suicide,
Gang of Four,
Q and Not U,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Niagra,
The Walker Brothers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Cure,
David Axelrod,
Jerry's Kids,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alice Coltrane,
Silicon Teens,
Pulsallama,
Boredoms,
Fat Boys,
Wasted Youth,
Panda Bear,
Fluxion,
Alton Ellis,
Brass Construction,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Half Japanese,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gang Starr,
Pole,
The Sonics,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wolf Eyes,
Outsiders,
Bang On A Can,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Agitation Free,
Black Flag,
Todd Terry,
Arthur Verocai,
Connie Case,
Henry Cow,
Ornette Coleman,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Remains,
Blossom Toes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crime,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gabor Szabo,
Roger Hodgson,
Suburban Knight,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Chris & Cosey,
The Skatalites,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
JFA,
Deepchord,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.