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 United Kingdom and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
The Names,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Mighty Diamonds,
China Crisis,
Blancmange,
Underground Resistance,
Thee Headcoats,
Carl Craig,
Ornette Coleman,
Jeff Lynne,
Franke,
The Litter,
Amon Düül,
F. McDonald,
The Stooges,
Marmalade,
Television,
Mark Hollis,
June of 44,
Scientists,
Accadde A,
Roxy Music,
MDC,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arab on Radar,
These Immortal Souls,
Mission of Burma,
Jacob Miller,
Aaron Thompson,
Ronnie Foster,
Al Stewart,
Ice-T,
Lyres,
Eddi Front,
Eli Mardock,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Stockholm Monsters,
Unwound,
Iggy Pop,
Wasted Youth,
The Blackbyrds,
Adolescents,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jerry's Kids,
Section 25,
Urselle,
The Leaves,
Glenn Branca,
Organ,
Derrick Morgan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sexual Harrassment,
Qualms,
Massinfluence,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Golliwogs,
The Saints,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.