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 San Marino and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator 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 Bob Dylan to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
the Association,
Marvin Gaye,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Moon,
Television,
Barry Ungar,
The Blues Magoos,
Ralphi Rosario,
June Days,
Symarip,
Graham Central Station,
a-ha,
Funkadelic,
Pantytec,
Jacques Brel,
Swans,
Cameo,
Royal Trux,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Vainqueur,
Sällskapet,
A Certain Ratio,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chris Corsano,
The United States of America,
Ohio Players,
Fatback Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lalann,
Gang Green,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soft Cell,
Warren Ellis,
K-Klass,
Junior Murvin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Sheep,
Ice-T,
Newcleus,
Mars,
Rekid,
The Busters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Archie Shepp,
10cc,
Make Up,
Section 25,
Scan 7,
Gerry Rafferty,
David Bowie,
Kurtis Blow,
Suicide,
Duran Duran,
Gabor Szabo,
Alphaville,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.