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 Brazil and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 David Axelrod to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Neu!,
Cameo,
Robert Wyatt,
The Victims,
F. McDonald,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sugar Minott,
Spandau Ballet,
Desert Stars,
Byron Stingily,
Gichy Dan,
Kaleidoscope,
Connie Case,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rosa Yemen,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Liliput,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Drexciya,
Fatback Band,
Technova,
Urselle,
The Selecter,
Mantronix,
The Cowsills,
JFA,
Erasure,
the Bar-Kays,
Bad Manners,
Susan Cadogan,
Skaos,
Eve St. Jones,
Visage,
Scott Walker,
Pantytec,
Altered Images,
Make Up,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barry Ungar,
Metal Thangz,
One Last Wish,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Sonics,
Althea and Donna,
Unrelated Segments,
Siglo XX,
Bill Wells,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jawbox,
The J.B.'s,
Laurel Aitken,
8 Eyed Spy,
Camouflage,
Harpers Bizarre,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Monolake,
Stiv Bators,
John Lydon,
Jandek,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.