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 Equatorial Guinea and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Barclay James Harvest to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Monks,
Yellowson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Severed Heads,
Symarip,
Thompson Twins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New York Dolls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Sherman,
Dave Gahan,
Carl Craig,
Unrelated Segments,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Quantec,
Curtis Mayfield,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Masters at Work,
the Association,
Althea and Donna,
the Bar-Kays,
Graham Central Station,
Isaac Hayes,
Aural Exciters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Von Mondo,
Quadrant,
Pulsallama,
These Immortal Souls,
Bootsy Collins,
The Star Department,
Stereo Dub,
Bill Wells,
The Dave Clark Five,
Khruangbin,
Susan Cadogan,
Livin' Joy,
The Count Five,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Bananas,
Patti Smith,
Altered Images,
Intrusion,
F. McDonald,
Pole,
The Slackers,
The Real Kids,
Tom Boy,
Metal Thangz,
Lakeside,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Walker Brothers,
Ronan,
Josef K,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fatback Band,
Japan,
The Human League,
Colin Newman,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.