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 Dominica and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Soulsonic Force to the dance 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Guru Guru,
The Divine Comedy,
Negative Approach,
John Lydon,
Marc Almond,
Junior Murvin,
Gabor Szabo,
Desert Stars,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bob Dylan,
Technova,
Brand Nubian,
Alison Limerick,
Nas,
K-Klass,
Flash Fearless,
The Happenings,
Ken Boothe,
Howard Jones,
The Standells,
Aloha Tigers,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Invisible,
Crooked Eye,
Barry Ungar,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lindisfarne,
EPMD,
Radiopuhelimet,
Altered Images,
The Cramps,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bush Tetras,
Country Teasers,
The Human League,
Supertramp,
Godley & Creme,
Ornette Coleman,
E-Dancer,
Skriet,
Faust,
Von Mondo,
The Gladiators,
CMW,
Black Bananas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
June of 44,
Circle Jerks,
Kerri Chandler,
The Barracudas,
Pussy Galore,
Au Pairs,
Tears for Fears,
Arcadia,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Inner City,
The Sonics,
Young Marble Giants,
Zero Boys,
Smog,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.