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 Panama and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 MC5 to the grunge 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Kerri Chandler,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ken Boothe,
Sugar Minott,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pole,
Royal Trux,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Deadbeat,
Ituana,
Judy Mowatt,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Suicide,
Reuben Wilson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Chris Corsano,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Raincoats,
Young Marble Giants,
Das Ding,
Babytalk,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Index,
Rites of Spring,
The Young Rascals,
The J.B.'s,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marc Almond,
Bad Manners,
Trumans Water,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rotary Connection,
Pere Ubu,
Radiohead,
Loose Ends,
Unwound,
Delta 5,
Stockholm Monsters,
Amon Düül,
Groovy Waters,
Second Layer,
Gang of Four,
New York Dolls,
The Seeds,
Hasil Adkins,
The American Breed,
Lee Hazlewood,
Livin' Joy,
Freddie Wadling,
June of 44,
Laurel Aitken,
Leonard Cohen,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Erykah Badu,
Grey Daturas,
Peter & Gordon,
Albert Ayler,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.