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 Vietnam and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 The Detroit Cobras to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Skaos,
Godley & Creme,
Cybotron,
Deepchord,
Electric Prunes,
Jerry's Kids,
Dual Sessions,
Essential Logic,
Kas Product,
A Certain Ratio,
Moby Grape,
Terry Callier,
The Selecter,
Con Funk Shun,
Derrick Morgan,
Bootsy Collins,
Andrew Hill,
Black Sheep,
Inner City,
The Move,
Subhumans,
Roy Ayers,
Barry Ungar,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Joe Finger,
Minnie Riperton,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Slits,
Pantytec,
Reagan Youth,
Wire,
Bang On A Can,
Maleditus Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
F. McDonald,
Robert Wyatt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Suicide,
Lyres,
Leonard Cohen,
The Star Department,
Fugazi,
The Walker Brothers,
UT,
Bill Near,
Rhythm & Sound,
Don Cherry,
Max Romeo,
Harry Pussy,
The Barracudas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Symarip,
The Evens,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scientists,
Glenn Branca,
Surgeon,
Bob Dylan,
The Pretty Things,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.