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 Bangladesh and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bill Wells to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Zero Boys,
Chris & Cosey,
Oneida,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Germs,
Robert Görl,
Terry Callier,
Man Parrish,
Terrestrial Tones,
Underground Resistance,
Neil Young,
Smog,
Skaos,
cv313,
a-ha,
Symarip,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Sonics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cal Tjader,
Marshall Jefferson,
Boz Scaggs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scrapy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ten City,
Juan Atkins,
Pole,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Joey Negro,
The Moody Blues,
Dual Sessions,
The Blackbyrds,
B.T. Express,
A Certain Ratio,
The Victims,
Bill Near,
Henry Cow,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Todd Rundgren,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joe Smooth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
PIL,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jeff Mills,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jacques Brel,
Outsiders,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bobby Sherman,
Barrington Levy,
One Last Wish,
Surgeon,
Essential Logic,
Jerry's Kids,
Panda Bear,
Moby Grape,
Big Daddy Kane,
Wire,
Nils Olav,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.