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 Costa Rica and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum 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 clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Intrusion,
Rakim,
Bobby Byrd,
Negative Approach,
Boredoms,
The Martian,
The Modern Lovers,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Standells,
Eddi Front,
Radio Birdman,
The Electric Prunes,
Morten Harket,
The Seeds,
Stereo Dub,
The Tremeloes,
Cal Tjader,
World's Most,
Unrelated Segments,
Yellowson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Talk Talk,
Boogie Down Productions,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Q and Not U,
Cheater Slicks,
Khruangbin,
Alphaville,
Gang of Four,
Ice-T,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Altered Images,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Circle Jerks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
DJ Style,
Stiv Bators,
Hasil Adkins,
The Pop Group,
Agent Orange,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Monks,
Reagan Youth,
Joey Negro,
John Cale,
Icehouse,
Neu!,
The Selecter,
Fluxion,
PIL,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
CMW,
Max Romeo,
Joensuu 1685,
Jacques Brel,
Howard Jones,
Mad Mike,
The Gladiators,
the Normal,
Bluetip,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.