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 Congo and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dirtbombs to the jazz 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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
The Skatalites,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Residents,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lou Reed,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ultravox,
Babytalk,
Essential Logic,
Niagra,
The J.B.'s,
OOIOO,
Iggy Pop,
The Gladiators,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
A Certain Ratio,
Man Parrish,
Brothers Johnson,
Amazonics,
Malaria!,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grey Daturas,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Minor Threat,
The Real Kids,
Lakeside,
DNA,
B.T. Express,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Spoonie Gee,
the Fania All-Stars,
Porter Ricks,
Hot Snakes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Beau Brummels,
Josef K,
Marc Almond,
The Leaves,
Urselle,
Intrusion,
Sonny Sharrock,
Warren Ellis,
Rapeman,
Peter & Gordon,
Yusef Lateef,
Slick Rick,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Davy DMX,
Quando Quango,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cluster,
Oneida,
Kaleidoscope,
Mr. Review,
Jacob Miller,
The Blues Magoos,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harmonia,
Bush Tetras,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.