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 Niger and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Yazoo to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Agitation Free,
Dark Day,
Robert Hood,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Matthew Halsall,
Thee Headcoats,
Max Romeo,
Pylon,
AZ,
Rekid,
Supertramp,
Sex Pistols,
Joy Division,
Public Image Ltd.,
JFA,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Au Pairs,
Todd Terry,
Thompson Twins,
Metal Thangz,
a-ha,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Grass Roots,
The Monks,
Roy Ayers,
The Seeds,
Pussy Galore,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Amon Düül II,
Dual Sessions,
David Axelrod,
Josef K,
The Blackbyrds,
Pet Shop Boys,
Suicide,
Mandrill,
Terry Callier,
Johnny Osbourne,
Girls At Our Best!,
Porter Ricks,
Stetsasonic,
the Germs,
John Cale,
Unwound,
Talk Talk,
OOIOO,
The Standells,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Human League,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Average White Band,
Country Teasers,
The Victims,
Public Enemy,
Bobby Byrd,
Arthur Verocai,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cecil Taylor,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.