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 Seychelles and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Agent Orange to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Yusef Lateef,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Erasure,
The Litter,
Make Up,
U.S. Maple,
the Sonics,
DNA,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Leaves,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lindisfarne,
The Blues Magoos,
The Dirtbombs,
Stiv Bators,
The J.B.'s,
Fatback Band,
Darondo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Panda Bear,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The United States of America,
Nirvana,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Au Pairs,
These Immortal Souls,
Boredoms,
Ituana,
Newcleus,
Spoonie Gee,
The Walker Brothers,
Blancmange,
Donald Byrd,
Warren Ellis,
Scratch Acid,
Skaos,
The Angels of Light,
Marmalade,
Urselle,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Byrd,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chris & Cosey,
Symarip,
This Heat,
Sun City Girls,
Dennis Brown,
Fat Boys,
Easy Going,
The Standells,
Los Fastidios,
The Count Five,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.