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 Jamaica and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the grime 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soulsonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cecil Taylor,
The Durutti Column,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Anthony Braxton,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Monks,
Darondo,
Country Teasers,
Connie Case,
Steve Hackett,
Rakim,
Angry Samoans,
Howard Jones,
Lyres,
Amon Düül,
Wire,
Kurtis Blow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Toni Rubio,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Faust,
Sparks,
Arthur Verocai,
Colin Newman,
Gang Starr,
The Cure,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Terry Callier,
Brand Nubian,
Echospace,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lungfish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
OOIOO,
Nas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cheater Slicks,
Mr. Review,
Buzzcocks,
Urselle,
Zapp,
Dawn Penn,
Danielle Patucci,
Marvin Gaye,
Kevin Saunderson,
Liliput,
Max Romeo,
Ken Boothe,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Zeros,
the Normal,
Minor Threat,
Fear,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
KRS-One,
Bad Manners,
Clear Light,
Mad Mike,
Mandrill,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.