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 Kiribati and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ronan 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Half Japanese,
Delta 5,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Misunderstood,
Smog,
Urselle,
Pere Ubu,
The Searchers,
Joe Finger,
Ken Boothe,
Spoonie Gee,
Frankie Knuckles,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bush Tetras,
Animal Collective,
Peter and Kerry,
The Saints,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Beau Brummels,
Bronski Beat,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Model 500,
The American Breed,
Blake Baxter,
The Durutti Column,
Swell Maps,
Kaleidoscope,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bluetip,
Ronnie Foster,
The Electric Prunes,
John Foxx,
Bobby Byrd,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Parry Music,
Gabor Szabo,
Crooked Eye,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Offenders,
the Fania All-Stars,
Easy Going,
Tres Demented,
Second Layer,
Massinfluence,
KRS-One,
Stereo Dub,
Simply Red,
Ultravox,
Yusef Lateef,
Lou Reed,
Main Source,
Desert Stars,
Colin Newman,
The Divine Comedy,
John Lydon,
Prince Buster,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Slick Rick,
The Trojans,
cv313,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.