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 Ecuador and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the grime 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Idris Muhammad,
Eden Ahbez,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Aswad,
The Pretty Things,
Rakim,
Sun Ra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Toasters,
Porter Ricks,
Kurtis Blow,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Standells,
D'Angelo,
Lungfish,
Stiv Bators,
Soul II Soul,
8 Eyed Spy,
June of 44,
Schoolly D,
Interpol,
Sam Rivers,
Sun City Girls,
Agent Orange,
Marshall Jefferson,
Whodini,
Boogie Down Productions,
OOIOO,
Banda Bassotti,
Man Parrish,
Grauzone,
Gong,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Malaria!,
Babytalk,
Surgeon,
Dark Day,
The Fortunes,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Cure,
Amazonics,
Agitation Free,
Sex Pistols,
Mars,
Josef K,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Residents,
The Music Machine,
Eddi Front,
Organ,
Television Personalities,
Lower 48,
Khruangbin,
Pulsallama,
Rufus Thomas,
Nico,
Arthur Verocai,
The Vogues,
Magma,
The Divine Comedy,
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.