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 Azerbaijan and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nas to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dawn Penn,
Mandrill,
Zero Boys,
Morten Harket,
Darondo,
Boredoms,
Symarip,
Aloha Tigers,
Half Japanese,
Crooked Eye,
Deepchord,
Johnny Clarke,
Neu!,
Lightning Bolt,
Animal Collective,
Zapp,
Derrick May,
Gang Starr,
Cluster,
The Standells,
Scott Walker,
Jacob Miller,
Minny Pops,
Sonny Sharrock,
Charles Mingus,
Sugar Minott,
L. Decosne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Birthday Party,
Danielle Patucci,
The Misunderstood,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bluetip,
Pantytec,
Soulsonic Force,
Sixth Finger,
Flipper,
Henry Cow,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Minor Threat,
Motorama,
Khruangbin,
Marmalade,
Nas,
The Vogues,
Absolute Body Control,
Country Teasers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Trojans,
Nils Olav,
a-ha,
Mars,
Tropical Tobacco,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Moebius,
Roxy Music,
Arthur Verocai,
Bobby Womack,
Depeche Mode,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.