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 South Sudan 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ 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 The Stooges to the grunge 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Jeff Lynne,
Scratch Acid,
Crispy Ambulance,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Boredoms,
Barry Ungar,
Pussy Galore,
Funky Four + One,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Q and Not U,
H. Thieme,
Kayak,
Blake Baxter,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joe Finger,
Alton Ellis,
Livin' Joy,
Babytalk,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Can,
Faust,
Letta Mbulu,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Crooked Eye,
Ronnie Foster,
Eden Ahbez,
UT,
Lucky Dragons,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bob Dylan,
The Standells,
Theoretical Girls,
Wings,
Moebius,
Toni Rubio,
Jacob Miller,
Desert Stars,
Electric Prunes,
Lindisfarne,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
JFA,
Sexual Harrassment,
Index,
Tears for Fears,
Tom Boy,
Japan,
Pierre Henry,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Velvet Underground,
Nick Fraelich,
Amon Düül,
Heaven 17,
Minor Threat,
Sugar Minott,
Shuggie Otis,
This Heat,
Minnie Riperton,
Niagra,
Robert Görl,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.