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 East Timor and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Piero Umiliani to the grunge 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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Faraquet,
Metal Thangz,
The Martian,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Buckinghams,
F. McDonald,
Electric Prunes,
Barrington Levy,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Sherman,
The Barracudas,
Leonard Cohen,
Mandrill,
the Soft Cell,
Bad Manners,
Model 500,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Zero Boys,
Dawn Penn,
Japan,
Letta Mbulu,
Suburban Knight,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Los Fastidios,
The Star Department,
Banda Bassotti,
ABBA,
Derrick May,
Warsaw,
The Pop Group,
Judy Mowatt,
Urselle,
The Red Krayola,
Swell Maps,
Barbara Tucker,
Connie Case,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Con Funk Shun,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
D'Angelo,
UT,
Peter and Kerry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Smog,
Ten City,
Khruangbin,
Chris & Cosey,
Aloha Tigers,
Derrick Morgan,
Bootsy Collins,
Fat Boys,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Massinfluence,
Guru Guru,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.