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 Somalia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord 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 Cramps to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
New Age Steppers,
Grey Daturas,
Wasted Youth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Susan Cadogan,
Pussy Galore,
Godley & Creme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Techniques,
Nas,
Peter and Kerry,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Isaac Hayes,
Amon Düül,
Rotary Connection,
UT,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lightning Bolt,
Patti Smith,
D'Angelo,
Sarah Menescal,
Minutemen,
Quadrant,
Tres Demented,
Bluetip,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Standells,
The Gap Band,
David Axelrod,
Electric Prunes,
Buzzcocks,
Theoretical Girls,
Aloha Tigers,
Japan,
The Move,
Crooked Eye,
Reagan Youth,
Infiniti,
Model 500,
Henry Cow,
Warren Ellis,
Erasure,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Khruangbin,
This Heat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Flash Fearless,
Negative Approach,
Faust,
The Happenings,
Ultimate Spinach,
Terrestrial Tones,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Suburban Knight,
Glenn Branca,
Boz Scaggs,
Deadbeat,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.