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 Turkey 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 The Saints to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Intrusion,
Radio Birdman,
Supertramp,
Hardrive,
Essential Logic,
F. McDonald,
The Angels of Light,
Kayak,
Hoover,
Livin' Joy,
Darondo,
Patti Smith,
The Black Dice,
AZ,
Erasure,
Pet Shop Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Peter and Kerry,
ABBA,
Letta Mbulu,
Mission of Burma,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
JFA,
Monolake,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Heaven 17,
Minny Pops,
Subhumans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Skriet,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gong,
Goldenarms,
MDC,
Joyce Sims,
Q65,
Skarface,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Durutti Column,
Bob Dylan,
Jeff Mills,
The Walker Brothers,
KRS-One,
The Associates,
Suicide,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Drive Like Jehu,
Camouflage,
The J.B.'s,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crispian St. Peters,
Boredoms,
Electric Light Orchestra,
ABC,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lucky Dragons,
Au Pairs,
Connie Case,
the Sonics,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.