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 Chile and from Shanghai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Excepter to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Cure,
D'Angelo,
Fat Boys,
Arthur Verocai,
The Selecter,
Con Funk Shun,
Pet Shop Boys,
The American Breed,
Howard Jones,
The Happenings,
Amon Düül,
Bad Manners,
Sparks,
The Gladiators,
The Real Kids,
Wally Richardson,
The Fall,
Boz Scaggs,
Q65,
Camouflage,
The Residents,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Suicide,
The Seeds,
Magma,
Bobby Byrd,
Outsiders,
ABBA,
Tears for Fears,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Black Moon,
The Fortunes,
EPMD,
The Shadows of Knight,
Girls At Our Best!,
Underground Resistance,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Anakelly,
Albert Ayler,
Sixth Finger,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Silicon Teens,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tomorrow,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Siglo XX,
Hoover,
Skaos,
Fear,
The Busters,
Little Man,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Sonics,
New Order,
Ice-T,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.