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 Antigua and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro 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 Make Up to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Swans,
Public Image Ltd.,
DNA,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fire Engines,
Brand Nubian,
Mandrill,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Swans,
Loose Ends,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Negative Approach,
Eric B and Rakim,
Peter and Kerry,
Swell Maps,
Graham Central Station,
Gang of Four,
Bob Dylan,
One Last Wish,
Rapeman,
Ultra Naté,
Sällskapet,
The Mummies,
B.T. Express,
Bobby Byrd,
Joyce Sims,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Skatalites,
The American Breed,
Nik Kershaw,
Howard Jones,
Yellowson,
Popol Vuh,
Fad Gadget,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Don Cherry,
Rekid,
The Offenders,
Surgeon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
David Bowie,
Panda Bear,
Ludus,
Ultravox,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fugazi,
Bill Near,
Arcadia,
Traffic Nightmare,
Roxy Music,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nico,
Prince Buster,
Faraquet,
Crime,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Unrelated Segments,
The Litter,
Zapp,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.