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 South Sudan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ 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 Max Romeo to the punk 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Chris Corsano,
Jeff Lynne,
the Sonics,
Quadrant,
Sun City Girls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Standells,
Swans,
Mars,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rosa Yemen,
Jawbox,
Peter and Kerry,
The Smiths,
Shoche,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Bar-Kays,
Marcia Griffiths,
Symarip,
CMW,
Harry Pussy,
The Barracudas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Real Kids,
Pussy Galore,
Marvin Gaye,
Derrick Morgan,
Leonard Cohen,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Techniques,
Anakelly,
The Fuzztones,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rufus Thomas,
Whodini,
Vainqueur,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Five Americans,
The Invisible,
H. Thieme,
Von Mondo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Banda Bassotti,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Trojans,
Young Marble Giants,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Henry Cow,
Ultra Naté,
Q65,
The Fire Engines,
The Dirtbombs,
Neu!,
Q and Not U,
The Raincoats,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.