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 Tuvalu and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Buzzcocks to the disco 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Anakelly,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Magma,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gang Gang Dance,
Unwound,
Ultra Naté,
Danielle Patucci,
Arthur Verocai,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jeff Lynne,
Sandy B,
Ronnie Foster,
One Last Wish,
Essential Logic,
The New Christs,
Kayak,
Livin' Joy,
Sun Ra,
Quantec,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bill Near,
Rapeman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jacques Brel,
Stetsasonic,
The Five Americans,
the Sonics,
Schoolly D,
The Smoke,
Jeru the Damaja,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Selecter,
Scan 7,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Lou Christie,
Deakin,
Little Man,
Kerri Chandler,
Rod Modell,
Ituana,
John Coltrane,
Roy Ayers,
Smog,
Eli Mardock,
The Neon Judgement,
Loose Ends,
Basic Channel,
Main Source,
Surgeon,
Niagra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The United States of America,
Ten City,
Underground Resistance,
David Axelrod,
The Dead C,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.