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 Israel and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set 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 a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
the Swans,
ABBA,
Scrapy,
Minnie Riperton,
Anthony Braxton,
Pylon,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
E-Dancer,
Angry Samoans,
Magazine,
Fear,
Buzzcocks,
Babytalk,
Peter and Kerry,
The Evens,
Joensuu 1685,
Grauzone,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Amazonics,
Peter & Gordon,
Icehouse,
Skriet,
Barbara Tucker,
Glenn Branca,
AZ,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jacques Brel,
Ten City,
Thompson Twins,
The Fortunes,
The Buckinghams,
Jeff Lynne,
Rod Modell,
Henry Cow,
David Axelrod,
Slave,
Depeche Mode,
Dawn Penn,
Al Stewart,
DNA,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Masters at Work,
The Black Dice,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tommy Roe,
Quando Quango,
The Wake,
Stereo Dub,
Aloha Tigers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hoover,
Minor Threat,
Electric Prunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Neil Young,
Pole,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.