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 Australia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Goldenarms,
Roxy Music,
Eli Mardock,
The New Christs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Birthday Party,
Can,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Five Americans,
The Golliwogs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barclay James Harvest,
Chris Corsano,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joy Division,
Zapp,
The Divine Comedy,
Bobby Womack,
Mission of Burma,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultravox,
Sound Behaviour,
Ponytail,
Bootsy Collins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joyce Sims,
the Sonics,
Bush Tetras,
The Dead C,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radio Birdman,
Wasted Youth,
Arcadia,
E-Dancer,
James White and The Blacks,
Pussy Galore,
Rapeman,
Fat Boys,
X-101,
Pere Ubu,
Sarah Menescal,
The Slackers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Amazonics,
The Fire Engines,
The Neon Judgement,
Dead Boys,
Half Japanese,
DJ Style,
CMW,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lakeside,
Bobby Sherman,
the Association,
The Music Machine,
Leonard Cohen,
Loose Ends,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.