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 Uganda 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Eurythmics to the electroclash 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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Barry Ungar,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Moleskins,
Charles Mingus,
John Foxx,
Chrome,
Supertramp,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wings,
Hoover,
Unwound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
New York Dolls,
Sex Pistols,
Howard Jones,
Rapeman,
AZ,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Technova,
Quadrant,
The Blackbyrds,
Television,
Roger Hodgson,
Wally Richardson,
Young Marble Giants,
Gabor Szabo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Tremeloes,
The Misunderstood,
Brass Construction,
Pussy Galore,
Blossom Toes,
Zero Boys,
Nils Olav,
The Modern Lovers,
Erykah Badu,
Janne Schatter,
Can,
Model 500,
The Music Machine,
Country Teasers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Procol Harum,
Surgeon,
Ossler,
John Cale,
Johnny Osbourne,
Faraquet,
the Association,
Los Fastidios,
Khruangbin,
Crime,
Terrestrial Tones,
cv313,
The Walker Brothers,
Soulsonic Force,
Slick Rick,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Funkadelic,
The Happenings,
Tom Boy,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.