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 Uzbekistan 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Magma to the funk 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rekid,
Henry Cow,
Sarah Menescal,
Connie Case,
Organ,
Eve St. Jones,
The Trojans,
KRS-One,
This Heat,
Nas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nick Fraelich,
The Red Krayola,
FM Einheit,
Bootsy Collins,
Joey Negro,
The Dave Clark Five,
Echospace,
Siglo XX,
Brand Nubian,
Jacques Brel,
Slave,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
the Association,
Severed Heads,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Shoche,
Dave Gahan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Barry Ungar,
Susan Cadogan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Johnny Clarke,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Litter,
Lou Christie,
The Count Five,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Blancmange,
Carl Craig,
The Busters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Darondo,
Second Layer,
Lucky Dragons,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Walker Brothers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Easy Going,
ABBA,
Simply Red,
The Electric Prunes,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.