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 Costa Rica and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
B.T. Express,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Max Romeo,
The Dirtbombs,
Lakeside,
Tears for Fears,
Soul II Soul,
Pere Ubu,
Stetsasonic,
Yusef Lateef,
Harmonia,
Second Layer,
The Last Poets,
Black Sheep,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sparks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Wally Richardson,
Arab on Radar,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gong,
Altered Images,
The Associates,
Stiv Bators,
The Litter,
Royal Trux,
The Selecter,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Womack,
DJ Style,
The Modern Lovers,
Negative Approach,
World's Most,
Can,
Bobby Byrd,
Brand Nubian,
H. Thieme,
The Toasters,
Bill Near,
The Moleskins,
Schoolly D,
Surgeon,
Mark Hollis,
F. McDonald,
Moebius,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lindisfarne,
Brass Construction,
The Divine Comedy,
Peter & Gordon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Invisible,
The Kinks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Donny Hathaway,
Deadbeat,
Dawn Penn,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.