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 China and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Sonic Youth to the techno 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Boz Scaggs,
Lyres,
Archie Shepp,
PIL,
Panda Bear,
Von Mondo,
The Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arthur Verocai,
Bill Wells,
The Sound,
One Last Wish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
June Days,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Visage,
Susan Cadogan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
T. Rex,
Little Man,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Audionom,
the Association,
Thee Headcoats,
Fugazi,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sonics,
Ralphi Rosario,
Newcleus,
Country Teasers,
Ornette Coleman,
Blake Baxter,
Derrick May,
Carl Craig,
The Fugs,
Janne Schatter,
Grauzone,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Y Pants,
Bad Manners,
Make Up,
Oneida,
Rhythm & Sound,
Connie Case,
The Offenders,
Althea and Donna,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tropical Tobacco,
ABC,
Michelle Simonal,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Robert Görl,
Hoover,
Fear,
Alice Coltrane,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ronnie Foster,
The Smiths,
Slick Rick,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.