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 Germany and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ 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 Outsiders to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Cluster,
Simply Red,
The Cowsills,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pylon,
Nils Olav,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stiv Bators,
Smog,
Althea and Donna,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cramps,
Sparks,
Junior Murvin,
Erykah Badu,
Swell Maps,
Peter and Kerry,
Yazoo,
Altered Images,
Hoover,
Soul II Soul,
Aloha Tigers,
Maleditus Sound,
Gabor Szabo,
Ken Boothe,
Kenny Larkin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
X-101,
Buzzcocks,
Underground Resistance,
Niagra,
Absolute Body Control,
Agitation Free,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
R.M.O.,
This Heat,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Beau Brummels,
Lucky Dragons,
Joyce Sims,
Eric Dolphy,
Visage,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ornette Coleman,
Newcleus,
H. Thieme,
Pulsallama,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Spoonie Gee,
Lalann,
Roxette,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Man Parrish,
The New Christs,
The Searchers,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.