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 Congo and from New York.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Grauzone to the crunk 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 Ronan. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ornette Coleman,
Arcadia,
Scott Walker,
the Bar-Kays,
Crispy Ambulance,
Warsaw,
The Saints,
Ultra Naté,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pylon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Barracudas,
Unwound,
Talk Talk,
The Durutti Column,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Fortunes,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cure,
Eden Ahbez,
Sixth Finger,
Sun City Girls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Real Kids,
Angry Samoans,
Alison Limerick,
Vladislav Delay,
The Remains,
Eric B and Rakim,
Barbara Tucker,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Angels of Light,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Loose Ends,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Henry Cow,
Lou Christie,
The Neon Judgement,
Man Parrish,
Gastr Del Sol,
Index,
The Tremeloes,
The Index,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Alice Coltrane,
Outsiders,
The Cowsills,
The Trojans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Barclay James Harvest,
Derrick May,
The Evens,
John Foxx,
Scrapy,
Ludus,
Ralphi Rosario,
MC5,
Guru Guru,
Minutemen,
Drive Like Jehu,
Morten Harket,
Moby Grape,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.