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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mr. Review 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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kerri Chandler,
Bush Tetras,
John Cale,
Agitation Free,
Eric Copeland,
Don Cherry,
Todd Rundgren,
F. McDonald,
Magazine,
Max Romeo,
The Music Machine,
Yusef Lateef,
Niagra,
The Skatalites,
The Move,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ohio Players,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Moon,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Raincoats,
Todd Terry,
Drexciya,
Andrew Hill,
Royal Trux,
The Tremeloes,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fluxion,
Bill Wells,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mad Mike,
Lou Christie,
Smog,
The Standells,
These Immortal Souls,
Underground Resistance,
Freddie Wadling,
Howard Jones,
The Electric Prunes,
Outsiders,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Toasters,
Roxy Music,
New Age Steppers,
The Happenings,
Deadbeat,
The Real Kids,
Glenn Branca,
The Doobie Brothers,
David Bowie,
Intrusion,
Crime,
Sound Behaviour,
Wally Richardson,
Wire,
Rotary Connection,
Marc Almond,
Barbara Tucker,
Harry Pussy,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.