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 East Timor and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Graham Central Station to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Franke,
Absolute Body Control,
Gerry Rafferty,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Thompson Twins,
Eden Ahbez,
Nico,
Dawn Penn,
Arthur Verocai,
New York Dolls,
Aural Exciters,
Tears for Fears,
The Saints,
Mandrill,
Livin' Joy,
Half Japanese,
Deepchord,
Soul II Soul,
Scott Walker,
Dennis Brown,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Avey Tare,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gabor Szabo,
Tubeway Army,
Panda Bear,
Gil Scott Heron,
Whodini,
Vladislav Delay,
Symarip,
The Blackbyrds,
the Normal,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Black Dice,
Drexciya,
The Moleskins,
Boredoms,
Lindisfarne,
Swell Maps,
The Motions,
The Modern Lovers,
Arab on Radar,
Al Stewart,
Eurythmics,
X-Ray Spex,
CMW,
Suburban Knight,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
L. Decosne,
D'Angelo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Graham Central Station,
Shuggie Otis,
A Certain Ratio,
Radio Birdman,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.