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 Tajikistan and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Swell Maps to the techno 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Cymande,
Livin' Joy,
Josef K,
Dead Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Lucky Dragons,
The Residents,
Crooked Eye,
The Names,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Drexciya,
Pantaleimon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ken Boothe,
Johnny Clarke,
Roger Hodgson,
Colin Newman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Porter Ricks,
The Tremeloes,
B.T. Express,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Los Fastidios,
The Doors,
One Last Wish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
La Düsseldorf,
The Leaves,
Donny Hathaway,
Marmalade,
Qualms,
Vladislav Delay,
48th St. Collective,
Tim Buckley,
Prince Buster,
Deepchord,
The New Christs,
Soft Machine,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Seeds,
Silicon Teens,
Nico,
Bizarre Inc.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sparks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Music Machine,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rosa Yemen,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Desert Stars,
Ronan,
Procol Harum,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Barry Ungar,
Amon Düül II,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.