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 Malawi and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bologna.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Marine Girls 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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Jandek,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fuzztones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Doors,
Dark Day,
The Neon Judgement,
The Selecter,
Iggy Pop,
Kerri Chandler,
Tres Demented,
Jacques Brel,
Letta Mbulu,
Scott Walker,
Skarface,
A Flock of Seagulls,
K-Klass,
Henry Cow,
Loose Ends,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rosa Yemen,
Donny Hathaway,
Das Ding,
Average White Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Lindisfarne,
Eric Copeland,
The Index,
Rekid,
Ohio Players,
Franke,
Goldenarms,
The Techniques,
Gang of Four,
Negative Approach,
Marvin Gaye,
Rites of Spring,
Urselle,
Eddi Front,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Walker Brothers,
Yazoo,
Procol Harum,
Sixth Finger,
The Dave Clark Five,
Joensuu 1685,
Flipper,
E-Dancer,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
ABC,
Bizarre Inc.,
Alphaville,
The Grass Roots,
The Barracudas,
The Dirtbombs,
Wings,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.