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 Mauritania and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Misunderstood to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bobby Womack,
Banda Bassotti,
the Swans,
James White and The Blacks,
ABC,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cheater Slicks,
the Bar-Kays,
Minny Pops,
Fear,
Eric Copeland,
Chrome,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Tremeloes,
Q65,
Monks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jacques Brel,
Amon Düül,
Spoonie Gee,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jesper Dahlback,
June of 44,
H. Thieme,
Harmonia,
Mars,
Nico,
the Slits,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The American Breed,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hardrive,
Donald Byrd,
Matthew Bourne,
Buzzcocks,
Dead Boys,
Aloha Tigers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Soulsonic Force,
Rotary Connection,
The Martian,
Ultra Naté,
Harpers Bizarre,
Prince Buster,
a-ha,
Main Source,
Eric B and Rakim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
Boredoms,
Eric Dolphy,
Don Cherry,
John Holt,
Donny Hathaway,
Blake Baxter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Procol Harum,
Y Pants,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hoover,
The Happenings,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.