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 Djibouti and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Tres Demented 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Erasure,
Thee Headcoats,
The Selecter,
Country Teasers,
Goldenarms,
Graham Central Station,
Urselle,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jandek,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Make Up,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Organ,
DNA,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joe Smooth,
Alphaville,
Nirvana,
Barrington Levy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Suburban Knight,
Monolake,
ABC,
The Blues Magoos,
Accadde A,
Carl Craig,
The Invisible,
Nik Kershaw,
Yazoo,
Alton Ellis,
Isaac Hayes,
Arthur Verocai,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Move,
John Coltrane,
Marshall Jefferson,
Newcleus,
Vainqueur,
Unrelated Segments,
Moebius,
the Human League,
Danielle Patucci,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bill Near,
Zapp,
ABBA,
U.S. Maple,
Godley & Creme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Moby Grape,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Average White Band,
Au Pairs,
Henry Cow,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.