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 London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
the Fania All-Stars,
Trumans Water,
The Slackers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Babytalk,
The Modern Lovers,
Radio Birdman,
Andrew Hill,
The Moleskins,
Guru Guru,
Loose Ends,
The Doobie Brothers,
Zapp,
Scion,
Dark Day,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Litter,
Davy DMX,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Monochrome Set,
John Holt,
Matthew Halsall,
The Last Poets,
Ultravox,
Q and Not U,
Popol Vuh,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yazoo,
Con Funk Shun,
Connie Case,
Cybotron,
Barclay James Harvest,
Unrelated Segments,
Patti Smith,
Terry Callier,
Cameo,
The Trojans,
Soulsonic Force,
Cheater Slicks,
Eric Dolphy,
The Tremeloes,
Liliput,
Grauzone,
Dawn Penn,
Rufus Thomas,
the Slits,
Sound Behaviour,
Marine Girls,
Basic Channel,
New York Dolls,
Boredoms,
The Human League,
Interpol,
La Düsseldorf,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rod Modell,
Suicide,
cv313,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.