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 Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Human League to the punk 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mr. Review,
Pere Ubu,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nas,
Moby Grape,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Matthew Bourne,
Can,
The Sound,
Rod Modell,
Bob Dylan,
The Busters,
Joe Finger,
Angry Samoans,
The Techniques,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cramps,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
X-102,
Delta 5,
Harpers Bizarre,
Carl Craig,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Don Cherry,
Sight & Sound,
Dead Boys,
Glenn Branca,
Maleditus Sound,
Quantec,
World's Most,
John Lydon,
Brass Construction,
Ultra Naté,
Flash Fearless,
The Black Dice,
Janne Schatter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sonny Sharrock,
In Retrospect,
John Holt,
Outsiders,
the Fania All-Stars,
Neu!,
Easy Going,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Average White Band,
Isaac Hayes,
The Leaves,
Wasted Youth,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Count Five,
Bootsy Collins,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tim Buckley,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.