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 Sri Lanka and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Echospace to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Christie. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Sister Nancy,
Agent Orange,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fat Boys,
One Last Wish,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fortunes,
The Seeds,
Lungfish,
the Germs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Laurel Aitken,
Hot Snakes,
The Offenders,
Kenny Larkin,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cure,
Tom Boy,
The Knickerbockers,
Shoche,
the Human League,
Rhythm & Sound,
Black Sheep,
Silicon Teens,
Ossler,
Ten City,
Boredoms,
Fad Gadget,
48th St. Collective,
Moss Icon,
The Zeros,
Lucky Dragons,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dorothy Ashby,
U.S. Maple,
Janne Schatter,
Soft Machine,
Panda Bear,
Echospace,
Eric Copeland,
Blossom Toes,
Siglo XX,
Flash Fearless,
The Shadows of Knight,
Electric Light Orchestra,
F. McDonald,
Au Pairs,
Mars,
The Gap Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Associates,
Talk Talk,
Urselle,
Warsaw,
T.S.O.L.,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lalann,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.