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 Laos and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Don Cherry to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
The Selecter,
Boz Scaggs,
Dawn Penn,
Kayak,
Hot Snakes,
Black Moon,
Audionom,
Anakelly,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Intrusion,
Man Parrish,
Main Source,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Spandau Ballet,
Mission of Burma,
The Black Dice,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Duran Duran,
Janne Schatter,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Faust,
The Trojans,
Robert Görl,
The New Christs,
OOIOO,
Blancmange,
Eve St. Jones,
The Detroit Cobras,
Yellowson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pulsallama,
Morten Harket,
Roger Hodgson,
Buzzcocks,
Yaz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
T. Rex,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fear,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Moebius,
Lou Christie,
Vladislav Delay,
Marvin Gaye,
Reagan Youth,
Mantronix,
Fluxion,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Womack,
The Kinks,
Bluetip,
Idris Muhammad,
Ossler,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Q65,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.