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 Peru and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator 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 Mission of Burma to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Lee Hazlewood,
Alison Limerick,
Gregory Isaacs,
Heaven 17,
Icehouse,
Loose Ends,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Sonics,
Radio Birdman,
Sparks,
The Trojans,
The Buckinghams,
kango's stein massive,
Stockholm Monsters,
Blake Baxter,
Wire,
Scratch Acid,
Subhumans,
Talk Talk,
Oblivians,
The Remains,
Harpers Bizarre,
This Heat,
Bad Manners,
Sandy B,
Derrick Morgan,
Panda Bear,
The Birthday Party,
Aloha Tigers,
The Durutti Column,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
New Order,
Dual Sessions,
Liliput,
Eric B and Rakim,
Main Source,
Oneida,
Procol Harum,
Kenny Larkin,
The United States of America,
Bush Tetras,
Eric Dolphy,
Mission of Burma,
Yusef Lateef,
Jerry's Kids,
Roxette,
Zero Boys,
Soft Cell,
Slave,
Faust,
Sonny Sharrock,
MDC,
Faraquet,
Fela Kuti,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Toni Rubio,
The Music Machine,
Hoover,
Jacob Miller,
Connie Case,
Tim Buckley,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.