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 Cyprus and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cymande to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dark Day,
Jacob Miller,
8 Eyed Spy,
EPMD,
Severed Heads,
Bauhaus,
Robert Hood,
Barbara Tucker,
Minor Threat,
Josef K,
New York Dolls,
Johnny Clarke,
Gil Scott Heron,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scion,
Dawn Penn,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rhythm & Sound,
Aloha Tigers,
Mission of Burma,
New Age Steppers,
Section 25,
Oblivians,
Crash Course in Science,
Con Funk Shun,
Arcadia,
Matthew Bourne,
Robert Görl,
Thompson Twins,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Happenings,
Soul II Soul,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
New Order,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Prince Buster,
Crispy Ambulance,
Piero Umiliani,
Ice-T,
James White and The Blacks,
Maleditus Sound,
Depeche Mode,
Man Eating Sloth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Blossom Toes,
Underground Resistance,
Lucky Dragons,
The Seeds,
Interpol,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sällskapet,
June of 44,
Desert Stars,
K-Klass,
The Vogues,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Blackbyrds,
Mad Mike,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.