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 Philippines and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ 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 Ultra Naté to the rock 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
a-ha,
Avey Tare,
The Slits,
Arab on Radar,
The Fire Engines,
Nation of Ulysses,
X-101,
Alphaville,
Johnny Osbourne,
Traffic Nightmare,
David Axelrod,
the Germs,
Black Bananas,
Gastr Del Sol,
LL Cool J,
Spoonie Gee,
Country Teasers,
The Busters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Human League,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lalo Schifrin,
China Crisis,
Barry Ungar,
Tears for Fears,
Bizarre Inc.,
Absolute Body Control,
Pole,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sister Nancy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bootsy Collins,
Ohio Players,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Quando Quango,
Jeff Lynne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ponytail,
The Buckinghams,
Spandau Ballet,
R.M.O.,
Soft Cell,
Josef K,
Letta Mbulu,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gabor Szabo,
The Smoke,
Echospace,
Youth Brigade,
Joey Negro,
Donny Hathaway,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Vogues,
Parry Music,
The Toasters,
John Cale,
the Fania All-Stars,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.