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 Russia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the dance 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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 Kinks,
The Durutti Column,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ralphi Rosario,
Minny Pops,
Negative Approach,
Boredoms,
Eddi Front,
The Angels of Light,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Blancmange,
Audionom,
John Foxx,
Soft Cell,
Judy Mowatt,
The Raincoats,
The Stooges,
Bill Wells,
Cal Tjader,
Ultimate Spinach,
Warren Ellis,
Alison Limerick,
Pole,
The Modern Lovers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Bar-Kays,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Maleditus Sound,
Maurizio,
Jeff Mills,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ken Boothe,
Ronan,
Rhythm & Sound,
One Last Wish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Skaos,
The Trojans,
Moebius,
Public Enemy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric B and Rakim,
Shuggie Otis,
ABC,
The Searchers,
Brick,
Ice-T,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
T.S.O.L.,
Freddie Wadling,
Kurtis Blow,
Aaron Thompson,
Liliput,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gang of Four,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.