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 Libya and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bluetip to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barrington Levy,
The Gladiators,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Mummies,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Slits,
The Monochrome Set,
the Association,
Accadde A,
Alton Ellis,
Youth Brigade,
Mark Hollis,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cowsills,
Sexual Harrassment,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Toasters,
The Monks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Man Parrish,
R.M.O.,
Hoover,
New Age Steppers,
DJ Sneak,
Camberwell Now,
Gabor Szabo,
a-ha,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Buzzcocks,
Second Layer,
Mad Mike,
Scientists,
Wolf Eyes,
K-Klass,
Erykah Badu,
Jeff Lynne,
Lakeside,
Mars,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fugs,
Avey Tare,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fela Kuti,
Charles Mingus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
X-Ray Spex,
Flipper,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pole,
Pulsallama,
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dead C,
Main Source,
Kool Moe Dee,
Amazonics,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.