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 Armenia and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 linndrum 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 Kenny Larkin to the rock 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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,
Popol Vuh,
JFA,
Sällskapet,
Japan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sam Rivers,
Radiohead,
Radio Birdman,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare,
Byron Stingily,
the Sonics,
The Gladiators,
Intrusion,
U.S. Maple,
Porter Ricks,
T. Rex,
Erykah Badu,
The Cramps,
Pagans,
cv313,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Red Krayola,
Agent Orange,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Altered Images,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Blackbyrds,
Boredoms,
Minutemen,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cure,
Aural Exciters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Parry Music,
Barrington Levy,
Zero Boys,
Bill Near,
LL Cool J,
Todd Rundgren,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Sheep,
Vainqueur,
Lindisfarne,
The Vogues,
The Mojo Men,
Ohio Players,
The Human League,
Harpers Bizarre,
H. Thieme,
Q and Not U,
Moby Grape,
Al Stewart,
Iggy Pop,
Althea and Donna,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Saints,
June Days,
John Holt,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.