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 Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Simply Red to the crunk 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Duran Duran,
Marmalade,
Average White Band,
Agent Orange,
Bootsy Collins,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Names,
Scott Walker,
Al Stewart,
Wally Richardson,
Schoolly D,
The Cowsills,
Pere Ubu,
Joy Division,
Grauzone,
Derrick May,
Deakin,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Martian,
The Durutti Column,
Sixth Finger,
DJ Style,
Rapeman,
The Leaves,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Urselle,
The Misunderstood,
Y Pants,
Don Cherry,
Khruangbin,
Thee Headcoats,
Roxy Music,
Talk Talk,
Siglo XX,
Aswad,
Pussy Galore,
La Düsseldorf,
Janne Schatter,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Cure,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minny Pops,
The Angels of Light,
Davy DMX,
The Blackbyrds,
The Gun Club,
Pulsallama,
Maurizio,
10cc,
The Slits,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Velvet Underground,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Stooges,
CMW,
Tomorrow,
Sällskapet,
The Zeros,
Delon & Dalcan,
Steve Hackett,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.