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 Bhutan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ 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 Dawn Penn to the jazz 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Warsaw,
Scientists,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ossler,
Procol Harum,
Brand Nubian,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roxette,
New Order,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Judy Mowatt,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pulsallama,
Metal Thangz,
The Fugs,
Surgeon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Urselle,
The Star Department,
Johnny Osbourne,
Drexciya,
Gong,
Gastr Del Sol,
Byron Stingily,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Leaves,
The New Christs,
The Wake,
Y Pants,
The Real Kids,
Desert Stars,
Inner City,
Moss Icon,
T. Rex,
Pylon,
Deadbeat,
Dual Sessions,
Terry Callier,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
Rites of Spring,
The Monochrome Set,
The Sonics,
Donny Hathaway,
Yusef Lateef,
John Foxx,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Bananas,
Magma,
Crispian St. Peters,
Aural Exciters,
Ken Boothe,
Kevin Saunderson,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Nation of Ulysses,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Average White Band,
The Music Machine,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.