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 Pakistan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 American Breed to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Average White Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Infiniti,
Prince Buster,
Idris Muhammad,
Blake Baxter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Electric Prunes,
Pantaleimon,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Zeros,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Judy Mowatt,
Fat Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Smiths,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Chris Corsano,
The Vogues,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joe Finger,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Saints,
The Pop Group,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Cure,
Sam Rivers,
Moebius,
Wasted Youth,
Whodini,
Deadbeat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Associates,
Scott Walker,
Cecil Taylor,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tim Buckley,
the Bar-Kays,
B.T. Express,
Television,
Pagans,
Danielle Patucci,
Bob Dylan,
L. Decosne,
OOIOO,
Scion,
Wally Richardson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Josef K,
Groovy Waters,
Sex Pistols,
Amazonics,
Smog,
H. Thieme,
Magazine,
the Normal,
Robert Hood,
Lakeside,
Altered Images,
Minor Threat,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.