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 Bhutan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Rapeman,
Cameo,
Josef K,
kango's stein massive,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Grass Roots,
Agent Orange,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Pus,
Alison Limerick,
Crooked Eye,
The Associates,
Joe Finger,
Easy Going,
Bang On A Can,
Grey Daturas,
the Normal,
Brass Construction,
June of 44,
Bad Manners,
The Dave Clark Five,
Goldenarms,
Suicide,
Interpol,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Alphaville,
Max Romeo,
Sällskapet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Neu!,
Leonard Cohen,
Michelle Simonal,
Faust,
Nick Fraelich,
Franke,
The Monks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Donald Byrd,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Birthday Party,
The Sonics,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
MDC,
Ponytail,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ludus,
Soul II Soul,
Cybotron,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Howard Jones,
Das Ding,
D'Angelo,
cv313,
Sound Behaviour,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jacques Brel,
Skarface,
Lightning Bolt,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.