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 Namibia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 David Bowie 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 Dorothy Ashby to the techno 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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kurtis Blow,
Procol Harum,
Severed Heads,
PIL,
Throbbing Gristle,
New York Dolls,
Metal Thangz,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barry Ungar,
Half Japanese,
Moebius,
The Gories,
The Martian,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Henry Cow,
Sixth Finger,
The Doors,
the Slits,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Youth Brigade,
LL Cool J,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kerrie Biddell,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roxy Music,
June of 44,
Bobby Womack,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bang On A Can,
Drexciya,
The Doobie Brothers,
Oblivians,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
a-ha,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Niagra,
Barbara Tucker,
Grey Daturas,
JFA,
Shuggie Otis,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultravox,
Adolescents,
Bill Wells,
Flash Fearless,
Young Marble Giants,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rhythm & Sound,
Boz Scaggs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Graham Central Station,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eric Dolphy,
Crash Course in Science,
Parry Music,
The Gladiators,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Morten Harket,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.