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 Chad and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Pulsallama to the jazz 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Thompson Twins,
Leonard Cohen,
a-ha,
The Smoke,
The Star Department,
Gabor Szabo,
The Offenders,
Mad Mike,
Darondo,
The Durutti Column,
Erasure,
Massinfluence,
Carl Craig,
Delta 5,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Sonics,
Sex Pistols,
Reagan Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Swell Maps,
K-Klass,
Average White Band,
Maurizio,
Nirvana,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rekid,
Make Up,
The Neon Judgement,
Marvin Gaye,
Lyres,
The Fugs,
Gang Green,
The Modern Lovers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marshall Jefferson,
Alphaville,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Severed Heads,
Ornette Coleman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Flash Fearless,
Metal Thangz,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Last Poets,
The Monochrome Set,
Theoretical Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Underground Resistance,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Shuggie Otis,
X-102,
Thee Headcoats,
Angry Samoans,
Cecil Taylor,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.