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 Niger and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
L. Decosne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aaron Thompson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pussy Galore,
The American Breed,
The Black Dice,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bill Near,
Toni Rubio,
The Last Poets,
Adolescents,
Lyres,
Bobby Byrd,
David McCallum,
the Soft Cell,
Arcadia,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Wake,
The Happenings,
Lee Hazlewood,
Carl Craig,
Radiopuhelimet,
Slick Rick,
Niagra,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Black Pus,
Theoretical Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Darondo,
Todd Rundgren,
Pierre Henry,
Bob Dylan,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Kinks,
Lungfish,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dead Boys,
Sällskapet,
Con Funk Shun,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Real Kids,
Los Fastidios,
Thee Headcoats,
Pylon,
These Immortal Souls,
Arab on Radar,
Rapeman,
The Associates,
The Names,
Agitation Free,
Crispy Ambulance,
Erasure,
Kayak,
Scan 7,
The Golliwogs,
DJ Style,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.