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 Somalia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin 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 Crash Course in Science to the rock 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Sarah Menescal,
Minny Pops,
New Age Steppers,
Eric Dolphy,
Neu!,
The Barracudas,
The Raincoats,
Johnny Clarke,
F. McDonald,
Blossom Toes,
Rites of Spring,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Los Fastidios,
Jandek,
John Cale,
The Selecter,
Vladislav Delay,
the Human League,
Crispian St. Peters,
Whodini,
Lungfish,
The Evens,
Ornette Coleman,
John Coltrane,
Grauzone,
The Pretty Things,
Underground Resistance,
X-101,
The Detroit Cobras,
Harmonia,
Shuggie Otis,
Dead Boys,
Flamin' Groovies,
Brick,
Nas,
Peter and Kerry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Cramps,
Desert Stars,
Altered Images,
June Days,
LL Cool J,
Make Up,
Pole,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blake Baxter,
Delon & Dalcan,
Siglo XX,
Fat Boys,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
Robert Hood,
Sun City Girls,
the Germs,
L. Decosne,
The Kinks,
JFA,
Severed Heads,
The Fire Engines,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.