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 Monaco and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Aloha Tigers to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Roger Hodgson,
David McCallum,
Max Romeo,
Goldenarms,
Minny Pops,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Groovy Waters,
Ituana,
The New Christs,
New York Dolls,
Gang Starr,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jacques Brel,
The Cure,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tommy Roe,
The Red Krayola,
Scrapy,
Saccharine Trust,
Sugar Minott,
Roxy Music,
Yellowson,
Blossom Toes,
Idris Muhammad,
The American Breed,
Funky Four + One,
Brick,
John Holt,
Masters at Work,
Chris Corsano,
Bobby Byrd,
Jawbox,
Byron Stingily,
Minutemen,
Rufus Thomas,
Barrington Levy,
Lower 48,
Ponytail,
Boz Scaggs,
The Saints,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Slackers,
John Lydon,
Popol Vuh,
Avey Tare,
Morten Harket,
Absolute Body Control,
Rod Modell,
The Residents,
DNA,
KRS-One,
Malaria!,
Ultra Naté,
The Gladiators,
World's Most,
The Gap Band,
Gang Green,
The Doors,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.