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 Slovakia and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin 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 Niagra to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
The Misunderstood,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rhythm & Sound,
John Foxx,
Young Marble Giants,
Hardrive,
Bang On A Can,
Sound Behaviour,
The Five Americans,
Massinfluence,
Sandy B,
New York Dolls,
Dead Boys,
Roxy Music,
The Residents,
Wasted Youth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Harry Pussy,
Lower 48,
Deadbeat,
Depeche Mode,
Sex Pistols,
Erykah Badu,
The Slits,
Amazonics,
Eric Copeland,
Brothers Johnson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kenny Larkin,
The Young Rascals,
Black Flag,
The Mummies,
Albert Ayler,
Fela Kuti,
Dorothy Ashby,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scion,
Letta Mbulu,
The Moody Blues,
Piero Umiliani,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Model 500,
Juan Atkins,
Eve St. Jones,
Max Romeo,
The Offenders,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marine Girls,
Los Fastidios,
Audionom,
The Associates,
Gichy Dan,
Siglo XX,
Ohio Players,
Donny Hathaway,
Warsaw,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lyres,
Sun City Girls,
Deepchord,
Con Funk Shun,
The Standells,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.