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 Swaziland and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 New Order to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
The Young Rascals,
The Fortunes,
The Cramps,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Audionom,
Funky Four + One,
KRS-One,
Second Layer,
Gabor Szabo,
The Smoke,
Eli Mardock,
Camouflage,
Stetsasonic,
Anakelly,
L. Decosne,
The Zeros,
MC5,
The Saints,
Glenn Branca,
The Beau Brummels,
Nirvana,
The J.B.'s,
Tears for Fears,
Khruangbin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Groovy Waters,
Accadde A,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fad Gadget,
Max Romeo,
Crash Course in Science,
The Detroit Cobras,
Angry Samoans,
Index,
Ultimate Spinach,
Joensuu 1685,
Susan Cadogan,
The Divine Comedy,
Reagan Youth,
The Knickerbockers,
The Five Americans,
Gang of Four,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Moon,
Yazoo,
Ice-T,
Sam Rivers,
X-101,
Echospace,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Todd Rundgren,
Lou Christie,
Neu!,
Schoolly D,
Franke,
Japan,
Maurizio,
Carl Craig,
Electric Prunes,
The Cure,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Blancmange,
Rhythm & Sound,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.