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 El Salvador and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 oboe 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 Smog to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
In Retrospect,
Los Fastidios,
The New Christs,
The Dead C,
Ponytail,
Iggy Pop,
Crispy Ambulance,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fuzztones,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Neil Young,
Rosa Yemen,
Subhumans,
The Doors,
Johnny Clarke,
Minny Pops,
Henry Cow,
Rites of Spring,
Jawbox,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Talk Talk,
Kerri Chandler,
DNA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Roxy Music,
Franke,
Tears for Fears,
The Martian,
Essential Logic,
Vainqueur,
Silicon Teens,
Stereo Dub,
Gang of Four,
Johnny Osbourne,
H. Thieme,
Rekid,
Lucky Dragons,
Terrestrial Tones,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Porter Ricks,
Alison Limerick,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
ABBA,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bronski Beat,
Stiv Bators,
Radiohead,
Eurythmics,
Brand Nubian,
Steve Hackett,
Matthew Bourne,
The Trojans,
Buzzcocks,
Freddie Wadling,
The Selecter,
FM Einheit,
X-Ray Spex,
The Angels of Light,
Drexciya,
Agent Orange,
The Slackers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.