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 Tajikistan and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Radio Birdman to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Index,
Freddie Wadling,
Liliput,
Yazoo,
Model 500,
The Remains,
Curtis Mayfield,
Little Man,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Harmonia,
Los Fastidios,
Mark Hollis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sparks,
Lower 48,
Erykah Badu,
Underground Resistance,
Mr. Review,
John Lydon,
Rapeman,
The Five Americans,
Yellowson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Spandau Ballet,
David Axelrod,
Circle Jerks,
Cymande,
Carl Craig,
Soul II Soul,
Scan 7,
Bronski Beat,
cv313,
Kurtis Blow,
Outsiders,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Theoretical Girls,
Fatback Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
X-101,
Skriet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Kinks,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Sherman,
Jacques Brel,
Sister Nancy,
Kayak,
Reuben Wilson,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Infiniti,
Scrapy,
Livin' Joy,
The Martian,
Roger Hodgson,
Silicon Teens,
Joy Division,
Cal Tjader,
Audionom,
the Slits,
Big Daddy Kane,
B.T. Express,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.