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 Romania and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Johnny Osbourne to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Pantytec,
Radiohead,
The Blackbyrds,
Cecil Taylor,
The United States of America,
UT,
Brick,
The Moleskins,
Ossler,
Lucky Dragons,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Monks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cameo,
Nico,
Idris Muhammad,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wasted Youth,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Holt,
Soul Sonic Force,
Technova,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ronan,
Fugazi,
Black Moon,
The Real Kids,
Sister Nancy,
Stiv Bators,
The Stooges,
Dave Gahan,
The Velvet Underground,
Organ,
Nas,
Wally Richardson,
Skarface,
Camberwell Now,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cybotron,
Lou Christie,
Ohio Players,
Minutemen,
The Young Rascals,
The Names,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Blues Magoos,
Albert Ayler,
Swell Maps,
Livin' Joy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Whodini,
Spandau Ballet,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Leonard Cohen,
Crash Course in Science,
Blossom Toes,
The Fire Engines,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.