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 Kyrgyzstan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Holger Czukay 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 The Knickerbockers to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
New York Dolls,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Matthew Halsall,
Soft Machine,
The Last Poets,
Yazoo,
DJ Style,
Grauzone,
Robert Hood,
Qualms,
Flipper,
Cymande,
Rufus Thomas,
The Alarm Clocks,
Icehouse,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fela Kuti,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sonic Youth,
Kayak,
Scan 7,
The Standells,
Blancmange,
Von Mondo,
Skaos,
World's Most,
Byron Stingily,
CMW,
The Golliwogs,
Oblivians,
The Durutti Column,
Rakim,
The Moody Blues,
Joyce Sims,
The Cowsills,
The Black Dice,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Don Cherry,
Aloha Tigers,
Althea and Donna,
The Flesh Eaters,
Agent Orange,
Sound Behaviour,
Duran Duran,
Nation of Ulysses,
June of 44,
Maleditus Sound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eric B and Rakim,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Blossom Toes,
Motorama,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scratch Acid,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nas,
the Human League,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.