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 Sierra Leone and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
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 snare 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 Donald Byrd to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lee Hazlewood,
Motorama,
Lower 48,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Donald Byrd,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Masters at Work,
Franke,
Robert Görl,
Gil Scott Heron,
Faraquet,
Skriet,
Quantec,
Guru Guru,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Techniques,
Audionom,
Letta Mbulu,
Echospace,
Agent Orange,
The Skatalites,
Sight & Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Suicide,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Essential Logic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Todd Rundgren,
Dave Gahan,
Half Japanese,
The Fortunes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Blake Baxter,
Fluxion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amazonics,
Ohio Players,
Deakin,
Bauhaus,
Electric Prunes,
48th St. Collective,
Soft Cell,
Ronnie Foster,
MDC,
Donny Hathaway,
Tim Buckley,
The Victims,
Robert Wyatt,
China Crisis,
Panda Bear,
John Holt,
The Vogues,
The Martian,
Second Layer,
The Seeds,
Angry Samoans,
David McCallum,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.