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 Hungary and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lightning Bolt to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Television,
Eric Copeland,
The Invisible,
Alphaville,
Bootsy Collins,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scott Walker,
Ronnie Foster,
The Sisters of Mercy,
H. Thieme,
Duran Duran,
Curtis Mayfield,
Siglo XX,
Lightning Bolt,
The Buckinghams,
The Last Poets,
Terrestrial Tones,
Interpol,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Animal Collective,
Popol Vuh,
Das Ding,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Absolute Body Control,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
World's Most,
Jacob Miller,
Ultravox,
Simply Red,
Cameo,
David Bowie,
The Seeds,
Schoolly D,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bill Near,
Joey Negro,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roy Ayers,
David Axelrod,
Motorama,
Don Cherry,
Traffic Nightmare,
K-Klass,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eve St. Jones,
Gregory Isaacs,
Hot Snakes,
In Retrospect,
The Remains,
Subhumans,
Arab on Radar,
Robert Görl,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mandrill,
Qualms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nils Olav,
Vainqueur,
The Fuzztones,
10cc,
The Fortunes,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.