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 El Salvador and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Mumbai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Pretty Things to the rock 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Monks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Henry Cow,
Black Sheep,
Fear,
Donny Hathaway,
David Bowie,
K-Klass,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Smiths,
D'Angelo,
A Certain Ratio,
Sandy B,
Vainqueur,
Banda Bassotti,
Animal Collective,
Jeff Mills,
Bluetip,
The Pop Group,
Flash Fearless,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Cramps,
Ronan,
Anakelly,
The Misunderstood,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Flipper,
Dual Sessions,
Cybotron,
Dark Day,
Johnny Clarke,
The Pretty Things,
The Buckinghams,
Swans,
Eden Ahbez,
Echospace,
Stockholm Monsters,
U.S. Maple,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Todd Terry,
Cecil Taylor,
Big Daddy Kane,
Slave,
Sex Pistols,
The Vogues,
Hasil Adkins,
Amon Düül,
Dave Gahan,
Danielle Patucci,
Los Fastidios,
Urselle,
Avey Tare,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pantytec,
Harry Pussy,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Flag,
Malaria!,
Kerri Chandler,
Bizarre Inc.,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.