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 Egypt and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Henry Cow to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Leonard Cohen,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Godley & Creme,
World's Most,
DJ Sneak,
CMW,
Electric Prunes,
The Offenders,
New Age Steppers,
The Flesh Eaters,
a-ha,
Theoretical Girls,
Roxy Music,
Fat Boys,
Yaz,
Gregory Isaacs,
Shuggie Otis,
The Angels of Light,
Depeche Mode,
Barrington Levy,
Technova,
Danielle Patucci,
OOIOO,
Sugar Minott,
Rosa Yemen,
Suburban Knight,
Barbara Tucker,
Aaron Thompson,
The Five Americans,
Hoover,
Gil Scott Heron,
Second Layer,
The Searchers,
The Star Department,
Pylon,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sam Rivers,
Steve Hackett,
Agent Orange,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jacob Miller,
John Lydon,
Letta Mbulu,
Zapp,
Duran Duran,
Cal Tjader,
ABC,
Pulsallama,
Accadde A,
Nirvana,
Lakeside,
The Golliwogs,
John Cale,
X-101,
The Monks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joy Division,
Urselle,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.