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 Denmark and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 spring reverb 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the techno 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Idris Muhammad,
Cal Tjader,
Alphaville,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Five Americans,
The J.B.'s,
The Blues Magoos,
Barbara Tucker,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Circle Jerks,
The Monochrome Set,
The Tremeloes,
Bobby Byrd,
Arcadia,
Scan 7,
Lalann,
Chrome,
Electric Prunes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Howard Jones,
Shoche,
The Red Krayola,
Average White Band,
Tim Buckley,
The Smoke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Durutti Column,
Glenn Branca,
Severed Heads,
Neil Young,
The Fugs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Piero Umiliani,
Camouflage,
Slick Rick,
Josef K,
Skaos,
Mantronix,
Surgeon,
The Mummies,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kenny Larkin,
U.S. Maple,
Albert Ayler,
Dark Day,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Associates,
Siglo XX,
Tom Boy,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Lydon,
Tres Demented,
Rod Modell,
Ten City,
Vladislav Delay,
10cc,
CMW,
Second Layer,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.