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 Argentina and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lee Hazlewood to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
Connie Case,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hot Snakes,
The Smoke,
Severed Heads,
Cybotron,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Durutti Column,
Shuggie Otis,
Mo-Dettes,
Mars,
DJ Style,
Altered Images,
Massinfluence,
Pere Ubu,
Patti Smith,
Tears for Fears,
Amon Düül,
Howard Jones,
Sarah Menescal,
Goldenarms,
The Five Americans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eve St. Jones,
Ornette Coleman,
Average White Band,
Quando Quango,
Isaac Hayes,
Yusef Lateef,
ABBA,
Con Funk Shun,
The Cure,
Scrapy,
The Dirtbombs,
The Selecter,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jeff Lynne,
Ultra Naté,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kayak,
Janne Schatter,
Public Enemy,
Black Flag,
Mantronix,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Monks,
Panda Bear,
Eddi Front,
Bang On A Can,
Tropical Tobacco,
Procol Harum,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Hasil Adkins,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.