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 Nigeria and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar 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 Cheater Slicks to the techno 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Al Stewart,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joy Division,
Harry Pussy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roxette,
Maurizio,
Y Pants,
EPMD,
Hot Snakes,
Japan,
The Neon Judgement,
Hasil Adkins,
Slave,
Nik Kershaw,
Suicide,
Babytalk,
Dual Sessions,
Dead Boys,
Moss Icon,
Connie Case,
Bobby Byrd,
Marc Almond,
Amon Düül,
FM Einheit,
Soft Machine,
Neu!,
These Immortal Souls,
The Electric Prunes,
Albert Ayler,
Siglo XX,
Mad Mike,
The Skatalites,
Ultravox,
Bluetip,
Cybotron,
Metal Thangz,
DJ Sneak,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sparks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
One Last Wish,
Glenn Branca,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Flag,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rapeman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bob Dylan,
Wolf Eyes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
New Age Steppers,
Ultra Naté,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Motorama,
A Certain Ratio,
Los Fastidios,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Circle Jerks,
Josef K,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.