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 Honduras and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 David Bowie 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Jeff Mills,
Organ,
Harmonia,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Harry Pussy,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Sherman,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Modern Lovers,
The Remains,
H. Thieme,
Mary Jane Girls,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultravox,
Skarface,
Adolescents,
Sun City Girls,
John Cale,
Young Marble Giants,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Moleskins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
MDC,
Morten Harket,
Sexual Harrassment,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barbara Tucker,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Divine Comedy,
Sun Ra,
Wasted Youth,
Grandmaster Flash,
La Düsseldorf,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Grass Roots,
Joyce Sims,
Rakim,
Soul Sonic Force,
Yellowson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Sound,
The Durutti Column,
Dark Day,
The Residents,
Mark Hollis,
The Slits,
the Swans,
K-Klass,
Mars,
Yaz,
cv313,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Saints,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Massinfluence,
Kas Product,
Black Bananas,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.