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 Luxembourg and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord 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 Monks to the electroclash 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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Rekid,
Subhumans,
The Evens,
Blake Baxter,
Ultra Naté,
Bronski Beat,
China Crisis,
Jeff Lynne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Yellowson,
Lower 48,
The Vogues,
Jawbox,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ossler,
Reuben Wilson,
K-Klass,
Piero Umiliani,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Porter Ricks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Metal Thangz,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Terry Callier,
June Days,
Sun Ra,
Judy Mowatt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Robert Hood,
Bluetip,
Newcleus,
Public Enemy,
Max Romeo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bush Tetras,
Parry Music,
the Soft Cell,
The Red Krayola,
Unwound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gichy Dan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lungfish,
The Fugs,
Howard Jones,
Franke,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fortunes,
Lindisfarne,
Banda Bassotti,
The J.B.'s,
Matthew Bourne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Skarface,
Ultimate Spinach,
Patti Smith,
Mad Mike,
The New Christs,
10cc,
Gong,
Amon Düül II,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.