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 Madagascar and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the crunk 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
The Shadows of Knight,
Don Cherry,
the Swans,
The Victims,
Danielle Patucci,
Marine Girls,
Derrick Morgan,
Letta Mbulu,
Blake Baxter,
Swell Maps,
The Durutti Column,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Martian,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bluetip,
Television,
Sandy B,
Au Pairs,
The Stooges,
Pylon,
Thee Headcoats,
China Crisis,
Warsaw,
kango's stein massive,
Roy Ayers,
FM Einheit,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Hardrive,
Ronnie Foster,
Barry Ungar,
The Remains,
Crash Course in Science,
Camberwell Now,
The Last Poets,
Bill Near,
The Five Americans,
Donny Hathaway,
The Grass Roots,
Avey Tare,
D'Angelo,
Q and Not U,
Animal Collective,
John Lydon,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Flesh Eaters,
U.S. Maple,
Eurythmics,
Maleditus Sound,
Smog,
The Techniques,
The Misunderstood,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Minnie Riperton,
Yellowson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
8 Eyed Spy,
Henry Cow,
Amon Düül,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.