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 Antigua and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Youth Brigade to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gun Club,
Inner City,
Clear Light,
Colin Newman,
Oblivians,
The Busters,
Cheater Slicks,
These Immortal Souls,
The Golliwogs,
Sun City Girls,
Popol Vuh,
Make Up,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
One Last Wish,
Kurtis Blow,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacques Brel,
Glenn Branca,
ABBA,
Man Parrish,
Buzzcocks,
Soul II Soul,
Barrington Levy,
Black Pus,
The American Breed,
Los Fastidios,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gabor Szabo,
D'Angelo,
Johnny Clarke,
Leonard Cohen,
The United States of America,
Talk Talk,
Prince Buster,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Cramps,
The Victims,
Slave,
FM Einheit,
Procol Harum,
Subhumans,
Maleditus Sound,
Nas,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bronski Beat,
The Smiths,
Terrestrial Tones,
Royal Trux,
David Axelrod,
Nik Kershaw,
Wolf Eyes,
X-101,
Mr. Review,
Young Marble Giants,
Angry Samoans,
The Martian,
Boz Scaggs,
Harmonia,
Blake Baxter,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.