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 Botswana and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Frankie Knuckles 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 Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
The Remains,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Move,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Iggy Pop,
Charles Mingus,
The American Breed,
Dual Sessions,
Sugar Minott,
The Red Krayola,
the Germs,
Rekid,
Nirvana,
Sam Rivers,
Wings,
The Cowsills,
KRS-One,
The Raincoats,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pagans,
Goldenarms,
Gabor Szabo,
Aural Exciters,
U.S. Maple,
Liliput,
Peter and Kerry,
Procol Harum,
Blake Baxter,
Judy Mowatt,
Sällskapet,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Television Personalities,
Suburban Knight,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Talk Talk,
Peter & Gordon,
Skaos,
Circle Jerks,
Heaven 17,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tears for Fears,
Jacob Miller,
Carl Craig,
Ken Boothe,
Ohio Players,
Radio Birdman,
Funky Four + One,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joey Negro,
Maleditus Sound,
Sex Pistols,
Rapeman,
The Smiths,
The Velvet Underground,
MC5,
Brand Nubian,
Marvin Gaye,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cal Tjader,
Severed Heads,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.