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 Saudi Arabia and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Arthur Verocai to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Searchers,
Qualms,
Gabor Szabo,
Tomorrow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cheater Slicks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Electric Prunes,
Boogie Down Productions,
The American Breed,
ABC,
The Human League,
Ten City,
Johnny Clarke,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nick Fraelich,
U.S. Maple,
Johnny Osbourne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Piero Umiliani,
The Associates,
Yellowson,
New Age Steppers,
Popol Vuh,
The Dave Clark Five,
Minutemen,
Derrick Morgan,
Skaos,
Swell Maps,
Sonic Youth,
Derrick May,
The Count Five,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Los Fastidios,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Technova,
Peter and Kerry,
The Kinks,
Graham Central Station,
Don Cherry,
Crime,
Parry Music,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eli Mardock,
David McCallum,
Spandau Ballet,
Flash Fearless,
The Pretty Things,
The Stooges,
John Lydon,
Skarface,
Procol Harum,
Eden Ahbez,
Cymande,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Desert Stars,
The Fall,
The Last Poets,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.