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 Pakistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Fugs to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Adolescents,
Pussy Galore,
Gang of Four,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mad Mike,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Dead C,
David Axelrod,
Big Daddy Kane,
Spoonie Gee,
Hardrive,
Model 500,
Interpol,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scott Walker,
Angry Samoans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marc Almond,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Quantec,
10cc,
X-Ray Spex,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Amazonics,
Au Pairs,
Ornette Coleman,
The Pretty Things,
Jacques Brel,
The Beau Brummels,
Henry Cow,
The Mummies,
Godley & Creme,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Slits,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Groovy Waters,
Max Romeo,
The Index,
Pierre Henry,
Massinfluence,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Blackbyrds,
The Vogues,
cv313,
Sonic Youth,
The Barracudas,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kerri Chandler,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Whodini,
Ossler,
Donald Byrd,
Dead Boys,
Excepter,
The Monks,
June of 44,
Nick Fraelich,
The Real Kids,
OOIOO,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.