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 Bahrain and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 spring reverb 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 The Star Department 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Lyres,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Matthew Halsall,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Radiohead,
Juan Atkins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Desert Stars,
The Slackers,
Das Ding,
Amazonics,
Todd Terry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sandy B,
Arcadia,
The Blackbyrds,
Model 500,
Parry Music,
Yellowson,
Tres Demented,
The Happenings,
Hasil Adkins,
Harry Pussy,
Funkadelic,
Pagans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Fugs,
Maleditus Sound,
Gastr Del Sol,
Smog,
Roxy Music,
The Mummies,
The Golliwogs,
KRS-One,
Fad Gadget,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Beau Brummels,
Procol Harum,
Infiniti,
Crooked Eye,
Newcleus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
Scott Walker,
Prince Buster,
Harmonia,
Spoonie Gee,
Patti Smith,
The Gap Band,
Babytalk,
Connie Case,
Stockholm Monsters,
Whodini,
Sugar Minott,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
EPMD,
Rod Modell,
the Association,
Flash Fearless,
The Doors,
The Gories,
Drive Like Jehu,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.