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 Mozambique and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes 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 Monks to the grime 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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Sight & Sound,
Sandy B,
Circle Jerks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Flamin' Groovies,
E-Dancer,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
D'Angelo,
Tommy Roe,
The Doors,
John Lydon,
the Normal,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scientists,
Bang On A Can,
Alison Limerick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Connie Case,
Johnny Clarke,
Carl Craig,
Gabor Szabo,
Minny Pops,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pulsallama,
the Slits,
Dennis Brown,
T. Rex,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
New Age Steppers,
The New Christs,
Archie Shepp,
Anthony Braxton,
Chris & Cosey,
The Grass Roots,
John Coltrane,
The Victims,
Josef K,
Fad Gadget,
Maleditus Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Franke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Subhumans,
The Litter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
X-Ray Spex,
The J.B.'s,
Eric Copeland,
Lucky Dragons,
Sugar Minott,
the Germs,
DNA,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joe Finger,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.