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 Togo and from Lille.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 T. Rex to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Maurizio,
Johnny Clarke,
Ornette Coleman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Sherman,
Lightning Bolt,
Stiv Bators,
Severed Heads,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brand Nubian,
Monolake,
Jeff Mills,
Robert Wyatt,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Soulsonic Force,
The Young Rascals,
Eddi Front,
Black Pus,
Scientists,
Panda Bear,
Marine Girls,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Germs,
the Swans,
Amon Düül,
U.S. Maple,
Heaven 17,
Traffic Nightmare,
Toni Rubio,
Echospace,
Motorama,
Radiopuhelimet,
In Retrospect,
Sparks,
John Lydon,
Cecil Taylor,
The Tremeloes,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Dirtbombs,
Silicon Teens,
The Mummies,
Girls At Our Best!,
Q65,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kenny Larkin,
The Leaves,
Lungfish,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Vogues,
Deepchord,
the Slits,
Kaleidoscope,
Thee Headcoats,
Mo-Dettes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Slits,
Audionom,
Hot Snakes,
Sun City Girls,
8 Eyed Spy,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.