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 Bulgaria and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
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 arpeggiator 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 Derrick Morgan to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scientists,
John Lydon,
Brass Construction,
Terry Callier,
The Black Dice,
The Mojo Men,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Franke,
The Fortunes,
Dave Gahan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Al Stewart,
Scott Walker,
Essential Logic,
Con Funk Shun,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Country Teasers,
Flipper,
Main Source,
Barbara Tucker,
Babytalk,
The Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Morten Harket,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minnie Riperton,
Drexciya,
Glenn Branca,
Fela Kuti,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Surgeon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crispy Ambulance,
New York Dolls,
Archie Shepp,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Normal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ohio Players,
The Stooges,
The Modern Lovers,
Swans,
A Certain Ratio,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Circle Jerks,
Harry Pussy,
Flash Fearless,
The Last Poets,
The Monochrome Set,
The Star Department,
Model 500,
the Fania All-Stars,
Liliput,
Mission of Burma,
Khruangbin,
The Residents,
The Standells,
Jeff Lynne,
Joensuu 1685,
Juan Atkins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.