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 Madagascar and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Eli Mardock,
Todd Rundgren,
Monks,
Minutemen,
The Dirtbombs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Motorama,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Excepter,
Cymande,
FM Einheit,
Vainqueur,
Fatback Band,
Bluetip,
Pole,
Freddie Wadling,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sparks,
Cluster,
The Young Rascals,
Silicon Teens,
The Offenders,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Animal Collective,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
T. Rex,
Wasted Youth,
The Remains,
Barry Ungar,
Liliput,
Y Pants,
Infiniti,
T.S.O.L.,
Metal Thangz,
the Germs,
The Sound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Doobie Brothers,
Byron Stingily,
The Mummies,
Ponytail,
Gregory Isaacs,
Circle Jerks,
John Cale,
John Lydon,
Minnie Riperton,
Bauhaus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Avey Tare,
John Holt,
Ken Boothe,
The Names,
Oneida,
Trumans Water,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Neon Judgement,
Heaven 17,
Blancmange,
Gang Green,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.