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 Brunei and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 linndrum 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 Agent Orange to the funk 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fela Kuti,
The Five Americans,
Hoover,
the Swans,
Camouflage,
Tommy Roe,
The Velvet Underground,
Minor Threat,
Iggy Pop,
Bush Tetras,
Boogie Down Productions,
OOIOO,
Rotary Connection,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wings,
David Axelrod,
Fad Gadget,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bad Manners,
The Standells,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scratch Acid,
Cybotron,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Cramps,
Eurythmics,
Nik Kershaw,
Au Pairs,
Jeff Lynne,
The Detroit Cobras,
Suburban Knight,
Bronski Beat,
James White and The Blacks,
Jerry's Kids,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Janne Schatter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sister Nancy,
Mars,
Gang Starr,
Nirvana,
Ice-T,
Jacob Miller,
The Black Dice,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
David Bowie,
Mo-Dettes,
a-ha,
Joe Smooth,
Arab on Radar,
Saccharine Trust,
Gichy Dan,
Faraquet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Q and Not U,
Warsaw,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.