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 Nigeria and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 Selecter 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Wake,
Cymande,
Moebius,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Doobie Brothers,
Agitation Free,
The Cramps,
World's Most,
Procol Harum,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Divine Comedy,
Kas Product,
Skaos,
Aural Exciters,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fuzztones,
Guru Guru,
Radio Birdman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Görl,
Bill Near,
Black Sheep,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sixth Finger,
Monolake,
Jacques Brel,
The Gories,
Basic Channel,
48th St. Collective,
Joey Negro,
Avey Tare,
Andrew Hill,
Ronan,
Barry Ungar,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Slits,
Fear,
Graham Central Station,
Sun Ra,
The Neon Judgement,
Davy DMX,
Terry Callier,
Johnny Clarke,
Von Mondo,
Theoretical Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Pussy Galore,
The Dead C,
Vainqueur,
Arcadia,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Dirtbombs,
Skriet,
Brand Nubian,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.