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 South Sudan and from Calgary.
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 Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Music Machine to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
B.T. Express,
Nirvana,
Radiohead,
Wolf Eyes,
Model 500,
Massinfluence,
Infiniti,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Icehouse,
Boredoms,
Guru Guru,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Todd Terry,
Eve St. Jones,
The Offenders,
Little Man,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ludus,
June Days,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Pus,
John Lydon,
Suburban Knight,
Rod Modell,
Gang Green,
The Seeds,
John Coltrane,
Donald Byrd,
Funkadelic,
Animal Collective,
Lucky Dragons,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Stiv Bators,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Junior Murvin,
FM Einheit,
the Soft Cell,
The Evens,
Blossom Toes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Robert Görl,
Radio Birdman,
Ornette Coleman,
Anthony Braxton,
Dawn Penn,
Derrick Morgan,
Iggy Pop,
Howard Jones,
Eric Copeland,
Al Stewart,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eric B and Rakim,
Liliput,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Organ,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.