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 China and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Letta Mbulu 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Sight & Sound,
Spandau Ballet,
Television Personalities,
Scratch Acid,
Funky Four + One,
Gil Scott Heron,
Connie Case,
Girls At Our Best!,
Outsiders,
Marshall Jefferson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Technova,
Quadrant,
The Red Krayola,
Al Stewart,
New Age Steppers,
DNA,
Cal Tjader,
Toni Rubio,
Bauhaus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The J.B.'s,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tears for Fears,
Faraquet,
KRS-One,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Echospace,
Prince Buster,
Todd Terry,
Lebanon Hanover,
Heaven 17,
Tim Buckley,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joyce Sims,
Wasted Youth,
Niagra,
Surgeon,
Gabor Szabo,
John Foxx,
Thompson Twins,
Soft Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Crime,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Country Teasers,
Ludus,
Tommy Roe,
The Electric Prunes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dark Day,
Delon & Dalcan,
Reuben Wilson,
Eurythmics,
Michelle Simonal,
Eli Mardock,
F. McDonald,
Warsaw,
Sun Ra,
Fat Boys,
Alison Limerick,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.