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 Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the rap 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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 Detroit Cobras,
Magma,
Danielle Patucci,
Crash Course in Science,
Todd Terry,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Blues Magoos,
Surgeon,
Suicide,
Joensuu 1685,
Sonic Youth,
Icehouse,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Accadde A,
The Black Dice,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Birthday Party,
The Dead C,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Basic Channel,
The Gap Band,
Ossler,
FM Einheit,
Roxy Music,
Underground Resistance,
Boredoms,
The Associates,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The American Breed,
Wire,
The Fall,
the Normal,
Funkadelic,
Sun Ra,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marine Girls,
Letta Mbulu,
Public Enemy,
Rosa Yemen,
Pharoah Sanders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
One Last Wish,
Terrestrial Tones,
Average White Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Brand Nubian,
The Slackers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tubeway Army,
Deepchord,
The Real Kids,
Crispy Ambulance,
A Certain Ratio,
Rites of Spring,
Saccharine Trust,
Blossom Toes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Barrington Levy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Minor Threat,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.