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 Tanzania and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Deadbeat to the grunge 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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Slick Rick,
Ultravox,
The Zeros,
Ohio Players,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Monks,
Harmonia,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Faraquet,
Crash Course in Science,
Cecil Taylor,
D'Angelo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wolf Eyes,
The Happenings,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mojo Men,
Cybotron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Angels of Light,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rhythm & Sound,
Reuben Wilson,
Man Eating Sloth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Zapp,
Jacques Brel,
The Cramps,
Dawn Penn,
Oblivians,
Radio Birdman,
Bronski Beat,
Siglo XX,
The Star Department,
Patti Smith,
Tears for Fears,
Surgeon,
Fluxion,
a-ha,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Morten Harket,
Delta 5,
New York Dolls,
The Dirtbombs,
Half Japanese,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Anthony Braxton,
In Retrospect,
Lou Reed,
Reagan Youth,
Eve St. Jones,
Letta Mbulu,
Wasted Youth,
Ossler,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Offenders,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nico,
The Dave Clark Five,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gladiators,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.