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 Peru and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 DJ Style to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Mr. Review,
Symarip,
Bush Tetras,
Groovy Waters,
Bobby Byrd,
Q65,
UT,
Stiv Bators,
Essential Logic,
Banda Bassotti,
Lou Reed,
Yazoo,
The Fall,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pylon,
Jerry's Kids,
The Blackbyrds,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dead Boys,
These Immortal Souls,
Goldenarms,
Flash Fearless,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
10cc,
Desert Stars,
Gong,
Spoonie Gee,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sun City Girls,
The Index,
DJ Sneak,
Yusef Lateef,
The Blues Magoos,
Kerri Chandler,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Traffic Nightmare,
Warren Ellis,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Moody Blues,
Excepter,
Matthew Halsall,
The Cramps,
Gang Starr,
The Fuzztones,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Todd Terry,
Aural Exciters,
The Selecter,
Minor Threat,
Laurel Aitken,
Idris Muhammad,
Masters at Work,
Crash Course in Science,
Swell Maps,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amon Düül,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.