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 Zimbabwe and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 La Düsseldorf to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Vainqueur,
EPMD,
Procol Harum,
PIL,
Dorothy Ashby,
Agent Orange,
Boredoms,
Y Pants,
Glenn Branca,
Aural Exciters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Toni Rubio,
Groovy Waters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Saints,
Au Pairs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
ABBA,
Roy Ayers,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Sonics,
The Fuzztones,
Fela Kuti,
The Beau Brummels,
10cc,
Throbbing Gristle,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wolf Eyes,
The Raincoats,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Archie Shepp,
Hasil Adkins,
D'Angelo,
Wally Richardson,
Joy Division,
Fatback Band,
Negative Approach,
Kayak,
T.S.O.L.,
Colin Newman,
Piero Umiliani,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wasted Youth,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tropical Tobacco,
Inner City,
Metal Thangz,
Jacques Brel,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crispy Ambulance,
Index,
Silicon Teens,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bluetip,
Tres Demented,
Mission of Burma,
Robert Hood,
Jerry's Kids,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Normal,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.