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 Belarus and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 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 The Move to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Lyres,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lou Christie,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Morten Harket,
The Flesh Eaters,
Yazoo,
Los Fastidios,
Roger Hodgson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Minor Threat,
Amon Düül II,
Chris & Cosey,
Sixth Finger,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nirvana,
Wolf Eyes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bizarre Inc.,
World's Most,
Derrick Morgan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bauhaus,
Magma,
Marine Girls,
Vainqueur,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Jimmy McGriff,
Television,
The Fire Engines,
Moebius,
Rotary Connection,
LL Cool J,
The New Christs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Normal,
Pantytec,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Modern Lovers,
Warren Ellis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Magazine,
48th St. Collective,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Altered Images,
The Fugs,
John Cale,
Eric B and Rakim,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brand Nubian,
Simply Red,
Man Parrish,
Sight & Sound,
Blossom Toes,
Barbara Tucker,
the Human League,
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.