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 United States and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Radio Birdman to the grime 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roy Ayers,
Reuben Wilson,
Q and Not U,
Theoretical Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Reed,
Gang Starr,
Bobby Womack,
The Mojo Men,
Jeru the Damaja,
Section 25,
Scientists,
Sex Pistols,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gregory Isaacs,
June of 44,
Masters at Work,
Index,
The Evens,
Swell Maps,
Max Romeo,
Audionom,
cv313,
Dark Day,
Minny Pops,
Severed Heads,
Babytalk,
Scratch Acid,
James White and The Blacks,
Mandrill,
Maurizio,
Pere Ubu,
Ituana,
Technova,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Bar-Kays,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tim Buckley,
Susan Cadogan,
Brass Construction,
Faust,
The American Breed,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Motions,
Kurtis Blow,
Deadbeat,
The Fugs,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Gladiators,
The Electric Prunes,
Metal Thangz,
Alton Ellis,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.