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 Qatar and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet 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 The United States of America to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang Green,
Pantaleimon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pussy Galore,
Desert Stars,
Godley & Creme,
U.S. Maple,
Lucky Dragons,
Magazine,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
OOIOO,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rufus Thomas,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pulsallama,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fortunes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Vladislav Delay,
Alphaville,
Royal Trux,
Tom Boy,
Hashim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Little Man,
Lou Reed,
Kool Moe Dee,
Warsaw,
Judy Mowatt,
Anthony Braxton,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Cowsills,
Lyres,
Steve Hackett,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Blackbyrds,
Motorama,
Fatback Band,
Silicon Teens,
a-ha,
Theoretical Girls,
The Evens,
Big Daddy Kane,
Shuggie Otis,
Half Japanese,
The Index,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dave Gahan,
Gang Starr,
Stockholm Monsters,
Surgeon,
the Bar-Kays,
the Soft Cell,
The Fuzztones,
F. McDonald,
Essential Logic,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.