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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Jeff Mills to the rock 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Make Up,
Young Marble Giants,
Talk Talk,
Peter & Gordon,
Archie Shepp,
Wire,
Ponytail,
Sarah Menescal,
Freddie Wadling,
Curtis Mayfield,
Albert Ayler,
Sun City Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Glenn Branca,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Metal Thangz,
Q and Not U,
Panda Bear,
Newcleus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cymande,
Magma,
Malaria!,
Depeche Mode,
Colin Newman,
Porter Ricks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lightning Bolt,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Simply Red,
Lower 48,
The Slits,
The New Christs,
Technova,
The Raincoats,
Kaleidoscope,
Heaven 17,
Brand Nubian,
Amazonics,
The Slackers,
Echospace,
the Association,
Skriet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Buckinghams,
Duran Duran,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Shoche,
Main Source,
Slick Rick,
Crash Course in Science,
Half Japanese,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Black Sheep,
Swell Maps,
The Angels of Light,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Foxx,
Blancmange,
Byron Stingily,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.