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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Livin' Joy 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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
Lungfish,
Tears for Fears,
Harpers Bizarre,
Technova,
Rod Modell,
Cal Tjader,
Y Pants,
Bauhaus,
The United States of America,
Gong,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Count Five,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Barrington Levy,
The Litter,
Organ,
The Detroit Cobras,
Swans,
Gang of Four,
The Fugs,
MC5,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Livin' Joy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Dead C,
Excepter,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bill Near,
Jacques Brel,
Mantronix,
Crispy Ambulance,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tomorrow,
Wally Richardson,
Ultravox,
Black Sheep,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Flipper,
Niagra,
Joensuu 1685,
Young Marble Giants,
the Human League,
Thompson Twins,
The Velvet Underground,
New Age Steppers,
Spoonie Gee,
Mark Hollis,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hasil Adkins,
Circle Jerks,
Vainqueur,
Minnie Riperton,
Sarah Menescal,
Scan 7,
Pulsallama,
The Martian,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dead Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
Groovy Waters,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.