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 Greece and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord 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 The Sonics to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Neil Young,
Cameo,
Erasure,
Judy Mowatt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Moleskins,
Barrington Levy,
Bootsy Collins,
Brick,
The Star Department,
Alton Ellis,
Graham Central Station,
Goldenarms,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Pop Group,
Al Stewart,
Tomorrow,
The Mojo Men,
Amon Düül II,
Unwound,
The Saints,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Television Personalities,
The Offenders,
MC5,
Fugazi,
Flash Fearless,
Lightning Bolt,
Panda Bear,
Country Teasers,
Ludus,
Bobby Sherman,
Visage,
Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
The American Breed,
Parry Music,
The Leaves,
Suburban Knight,
Monolake,
Main Source,
Jacques Brel,
The Neon Judgement,
The Velvet Underground,
Mantronix,
Smog,
New York Dolls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Young Marble Giants,
Vladislav Delay,
Mars,
Bauhaus,
Los Fastidios,
Slick Rick,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Cale,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Desert Stars,
Essential Logic,
Tropical Tobacco,
The J.B.'s,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.