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 Serbia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nas to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
The Durutti Column,
The Fortunes,
Animal Collective,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tim Buckley,
Buzzcocks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Audionom,
Robert Wyatt,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scrapy,
Urselle,
Rod Modell,
Index,
Iggy Pop,
Deadbeat,
Derrick Morgan,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crash Course in Science,
Deakin,
The Seeds,
Q and Not U,
Wings,
Freddie Wadling,
Judy Mowatt,
Zapp,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Mojo Men,
Interpol,
Ice-T,
Khruangbin,
Marc Almond,
New Age Steppers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Con Funk Shun,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Grey Daturas,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Germs,
Bobby Womack,
Newcleus,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fuzztones,
Harpers Bizarre,
Donny Hathaway,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tommy Roe,
Piero Umiliani,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lightning Bolt,
R.M.O.,
Youth Brigade,
The Gap Band,
The Gories,
Royal Trux,
David Axelrod,
Hoover,
The Litter,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.