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 Ecuador and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron 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 T. Rex to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Aural Exciters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lou Christie,
The Smiths,
Japan,
Tommy Roe,
Buzzcocks,
Eric Dolphy,
Cymande,
Todd Rundgren,
Derrick May,
Faust,
X-102,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Graham Central Station,
The Monochrome Set,
Skriet,
The Moleskins,
Alphaville,
Television,
DNA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Janne Schatter,
ABBA,
The New Christs,
Max Romeo,
Junior Murvin,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fad Gadget,
Soulsonic Force,
Echospace,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Gap Band,
Hot Snakes,
the Normal,
Brick,
China Crisis,
Skarface,
Scan 7,
Rufus Thomas,
Alison Limerick,
Malaria!,
Loose Ends,
The Standells,
Audionom,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Urselle,
Robert Wyatt,
Suicide,
Model 500,
The Fire Engines,
Archie Shepp,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Donny Hathaway,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Charles Mingus,
Fela Kuti,
Agitation Free,
These Immortal Souls,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.