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 Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes 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 Fugazi to the crunk 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett 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 techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Brand Nubian,
Joe Finger,
Fugazi,
The Modern Lovers,
DJ Sneak,
cv313,
Altered Images,
Heaven 17,
D'Angelo,
L. Decosne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
One Last Wish,
The Human League,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sparks,
Deakin,
Nas,
Camouflage,
Oneida,
Dave Gahan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Electric Prunes,
Pere Ubu,
Outsiders,
Sight & Sound,
Girls At Our Best!,
Yusef Lateef,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Leaves,
Wire,
Mission of Burma,
Desert Stars,
The Gun Club,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Monolake,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Real Kids,
Thee Headcoats,
June of 44,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Don Cherry,
The Move,
Das Ding,
The Velvet Underground,
Public Enemy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Banda Bassotti,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gong,
Erasure,
Wolf Eyes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Malaria!,
Country Teasers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
John Holt,
New York Dolls,
Ludus,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.