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 Bulgaria and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ronan to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rekid,
the Association,
Yaz,
Main Source,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Chris Corsano,
Smog,
Khruangbin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
June of 44,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Electric Prunes,
Dual Sessions,
Black Bananas,
John Holt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
R.M.O.,
T.S.O.L.,
Arab on Radar,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
The J.B.'s,
Malaria!,
Vainqueur,
Bauhaus,
Magma,
Sun City Girls,
Procol Harum,
Eli Mardock,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Saints,
Marine Girls,
John Coltrane,
LL Cool J,
Jesper Dahlback,
Y Pants,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tim Buckley,
Cluster,
One Last Wish,
Soulsonic Force,
The Moody Blues,
Moby Grape,
Anakelly,
Erykah Badu,
Aaron Thompson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Zero Boys,
Fela Kuti,
the Swans,
Amon Düül II,
ABBA,
Iggy Pop,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.