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 Uruguay and from Columbus.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Electric Prunes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Pagans,
Ten City,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Malaria!,
Erasure,
The Names,
Alphaville,
Barrington Levy,
The Motions,
Hot Snakes,
Pantytec,
China Crisis,
The Smiths,
The Monochrome Set,
The Wake,
Al Stewart,
Scientists,
Stereo Dub,
The Smoke,
Harmonia,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Searchers,
The Fuzztones,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kas Product,
The Skatalites,
Boz Scaggs,
John Holt,
Los Fastidios,
Flash Fearless,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fortunes,
The Invisible,
Arab on Radar,
Terry Callier,
Bill Wells,
Rosa Yemen,
Davy DMX,
Nik Kershaw,
Godley & Creme,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gap Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Man Parrish,
Camouflage,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New Age Steppers,
Public Enemy,
Yazoo,
The Kinks,
the Association,
The Tremeloes,
kango's stein massive,
Robert Hood,
Darondo,
Bad Manners,
Oneida,
Crispy Ambulance,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.