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 Mauritania and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 The Misunderstood to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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 Trojans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Albert Ayler,
Prince Buster,
The Gun Club,
Sparks,
Sex Pistols,
Royal Trux,
Harmonia,
Excepter,
The Star Department,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Seeds,
Blossom Toes,
Lyres,
Can,
Intrusion,
the Germs,
Michelle Simonal,
Dave Gahan,
Ornette Coleman,
La Düsseldorf,
Harry Pussy,
Aloha Tigers,
Joe Finger,
The Monochrome Set,
Joey Negro,
Matthew Halsall,
Roy Ayers,
Neil Young,
The Smiths,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
AZ,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kaleidoscope,
Deakin,
The Happenings,
Funky Four + One,
FM Einheit,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Amon Düül,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Moody Blues,
the Bar-Kays,
Rufus Thomas,
Davy DMX,
Rapeman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Chris & Cosey,
Suicide,
Y Pants,
Basic Channel,
This Heat,
The Young Rascals,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Byrd,
Barbara Tucker,
Fear,
Soft Cell,
Jacob Miller,
CMW,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.