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 Cyprus 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jeff Lynne to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Agent Orange,
Delta 5,
Fad Gadget,
Joey Negro,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sonics,
Carl Craig,
Soul II Soul,
Symarip,
Gregory Isaacs,
Skarface,
Rekid,
Kas Product,
The Electric Prunes,
Massinfluence,
John Foxx,
Rapeman,
Moss Icon,
One Last Wish,
Slick Rick,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Suicide,
Archie Shepp,
Matthew Halsall,
Amon Düül,
Niagra,
The Mojo Men,
D'Angelo,
Cybotron,
The Smiths,
Franke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Wake,
Derrick May,
Faust,
CMW,
Bobby Womack,
Yazoo,
New Order,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Standells,
Sugar Minott,
The Fire Engines,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ultravox,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dead Boys,
Panda Bear,
World's Most,
Tom Boy,
U.S. Maple,
Derrick Morgan,
Technova,
Interpol,
David McCallum,
Bush Tetras,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.