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 Samoa and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dual Sessions to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
The Move,
Wire,
Eurythmics,
Shoche,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Johnny Clarke,
Niagra,
Brand Nubian,
The Cure,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Motions,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sun Ra,
Aaron Thompson,
Pere Ubu,
The Techniques,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cameo,
Scott Walker,
Judy Mowatt,
Minutemen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Excepter,
The Doors,
Moby Grape,
The Mighty Diamonds,
James White and The Blacks,
Guru Guru,
Magma,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Fania All-Stars,
Drexciya,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bang On A Can,
Glenn Branca,
Yaz,
Skriet,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gabor Szabo,
Ultra Naté,
Crash Course in Science,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
DNA,
Gichy Dan,
Tres Demented,
Pierre Henry,
New Age Steppers,
Lyres,
Fluxion,
Deadbeat,
Adolescents,
Boredoms,
The Tremeloes,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Seeds,
Minor Threat,
Pharoah Sanders,
Blossom Toes,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.