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 El Salvador and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Eric B and Rakim to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Duran Duran,
The Kinks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wire,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Busters,
The Searchers,
10cc,
Bob Dylan,
David Bowie,
The Motions,
The Techniques,
Peter & Gordon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Visage,
The Standells,
Marmalade,
Eden Ahbez,
F. McDonald,
Sexual Harrassment,
Motorama,
Excepter,
The Young Rascals,
Lou Christie,
Barry Ungar,
The Golliwogs,
The New Christs,
X-101,
Buzzcocks,
Lucky Dragons,
Steve Hackett,
Janne Schatter,
Laurel Aitken,
The Move,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tres Demented,
Quadrant,
Crime,
Pierre Henry,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sarah Menescal,
Marine Girls,
Can,
Hashim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rapeman,
Camouflage,
Subhumans,
James White and The Blacks,
X-102,
Suburban Knight,
China Crisis,
Deadbeat,
Reagan Youth,
Gong,
Alton Ellis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jeru the Damaja,
Freddie Wadling,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.