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 Korea South and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 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 Faraquet to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
June of 44,
Anthony Braxton,
Charles Mingus,
Agent Orange,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rapeman,
The Star Department,
Man Parrish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ten City,
The Motions,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Big Daddy Kane,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Angels of Light,
DJ Style,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fat Boys,
The Gun Club,
Camberwell Now,
Archie Shepp,
Sandy B,
The Red Krayola,
The Fall,
Gabor Szabo,
Sällskapet,
Jandek,
The Blackbyrds,
Eurythmics,
The Busters,
Fugazi,
The Associates,
The Grass Roots,
Yazoo,
Unwound,
Duran Duran,
Boredoms,
Wasted Youth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Au Pairs,
Depeche Mode,
Lalann,
Public Enemy,
Supertramp,
The Residents,
Chris Corsano,
Connie Case,
L. Decosne,
Blossom Toes,
Circle Jerks,
Hardrive,
The Velvet Underground,
Skarface,
Suicide,
The Young Rascals,
Don Cherry,
EPMD,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Icehouse,
F. McDonald,
Agitation Free,
Marc Almond,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.