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 Kosovo and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
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 snare 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sight & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Neon Judgement,
Minutemen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Blancmange,
Piero Umiliani,
Toni Rubio,
Duran Duran,
Intrusion,
Ultimate Spinach,
Amazonics,
Chris Corsano,
Robert Hood,
Chrome,
Radio Birdman,
Guru Guru,
The Barracudas,
Andrew Hill,
Harpers Bizarre,
H. Thieme,
The Kinks,
The Beau Brummels,
DNA,
The Five Americans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pierre Henry,
48th St. Collective,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fire Engines,
The Doors,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rekid,
Circle Jerks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radiohead,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Adolescents,
Bobby Hutcherson,
This Heat,
Dark Day,
Mad Mike,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Agent Orange,
Soft Cell,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Shuggie Otis,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eric Dolphy,
A Certain Ratio,
Interpol,
Isaac Hayes,
Bobby Womack,
Echospace,
Ohio Players,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Flamin' Groovies,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Evens,
June of 44,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.