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 Benin and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Malaria! to the techno 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
The Gun Club,
Hoover,
the Fania All-Stars,
E-Dancer,
The American Breed,
Jeff Mills,
Ice-T,
Deakin,
Siglo XX,
Can,
Minutemen,
Soft Cell,
Amon Düül II,
John Coltrane,
Average White Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
48th St. Collective,
Joy Division,
the Slits,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Star Department,
Peter and Kerry,
The Happenings,
Lou Reed,
Sonic Youth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Quando Quango,
Fugazi,
Interpol,
The Fire Engines,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fugs,
Symarip,
The Vogues,
Pierre Henry,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Slits,
JFA,
Massinfluence,
Eden Ahbez,
The Five Americans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Alice Coltrane,
Wolf Eyes,
The Motions,
Cluster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Camouflage,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Smoke,
The Pop Group,
Neu!,
Second Layer,
New Age Steppers,
Crooked Eye,
The Leaves,
Quantec,
Dave Gahan,
Johnny Clarke,
Michelle Simonal,
Animal Collective,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.