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 Luxembourg and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Stockholm.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Kool Moe Dee to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
The Selecter,
Amazonics,
Swell Maps,
Marine Girls,
Liliput,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Alphaville,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Grey Daturas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rufus Thomas,
David Bowie,
Magma,
The Victims,
Kas Product,
Pagans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bad Manners,
Aural Exciters,
The Leaves,
Stereo Dub,
Oblivians,
Pylon,
Gang of Four,
Pere Ubu,
Porter Ricks,
Flash Fearless,
Index,
Bizarre Inc.,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Q and Not U,
Lucky Dragons,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Grass Roots,
Archie Shepp,
Mars,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Parry Music,
Alison Limerick,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Livin' Joy,
L. Decosne,
Deakin,
The Fire Engines,
Harry Pussy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Todd Rundgren,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cheater Slicks,
Underground Resistance,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
CMW,
The Fugs,
Ornette Coleman,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.