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 Cameroon and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 rhodes 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 Archie Shepp to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker 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?
U.S. Maple,
Liliput,
Soul II Soul,
Jacques Brel,
Bauhaus,
Jerry's Kids,
Graham Central Station,
Slave,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wally Richardson,
Lungfish,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Moleskins,
Ohio Players,
The Leaves,
Freddie Wadling,
Eric Copeland,
Erasure,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tears for Fears,
The Names,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Howard Jones,
Pulsallama,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Sherman,
Basic Channel,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Unrelated Segments,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Womack,
The Durutti Column,
Los Fastidios,
Sugar Minott,
Yazoo,
The Residents,
Archie Shepp,
Dawn Penn,
The J.B.'s,
Surgeon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Slits,
B.T. Express,
Mary Jane Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
Scratch Acid,
Al Stewart,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
CMW,
These Immortal Souls,
Bronski Beat,
Panda Bear,
Ronnie Foster,
The Golliwogs,
The Walker Brothers,
Fugazi,
cv313,
Lou Reed,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.