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 Iraq and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Robert Palmer 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 These Immortal Souls to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The American Breed,
The Blackbyrds,
Aloha Tigers,
The Offenders,
Barry Ungar,
Neil Young,
Basic Channel,
R.M.O.,
Das Ding,
Max Romeo,
Lee Hazlewood,
A Certain Ratio,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Toni Rubio,
Popol Vuh,
Soulsonic Force,
Alison Limerick,
The New Christs,
Subhumans,
David McCallum,
Theoretical Girls,
The Angels of Light,
Matthew Halsall,
Icehouse,
Johnny Clarke,
Tears for Fears,
Godley & Creme,
Scientists,
The Toasters,
Babytalk,
Kas Product,
Urselle,
Black Bananas,
Vainqueur,
Minny Pops,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marmalade,
Scan 7,
Hardrive,
Gil Scott Heron,
Angry Samoans,
Brand Nubian,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Vladislav Delay,
Pere Ubu,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Yazoo,
Roxette,
Cecil Taylor,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Whodini,
Don Cherry,
Bobby Womack,
Black Pus,
Magma,
Connie Case,
D'Angelo,
Eli Mardock,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.