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 Ireland and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Neon Judgement to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Moebius,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kaleidoscope,
Outsiders,
Brand Nubian,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Dirtbombs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Amazonics,
Barrington Levy,
the Association,
Little Man,
Sight & Sound,
Monolake,
Blancmange,
Scan 7,
Malaria!,
Scrapy,
Depeche Mode,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Mojo Men,
Arthur Verocai,
Flipper,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mad Mike,
Todd Terry,
The Invisible,
Girls At Our Best!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kool Moe Dee,
Spandau Ballet,
Marine Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eric Dolphy,
Guru Guru,
Man Parrish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Gun Club,
New Order,
Gong,
Reuben Wilson,
Pere Ubu,
Wings,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nico,
Slave,
Crime,
UT,
Thee Headcoats,
Boogie Down Productions,
Shoche,
Simply Red,
Stereo Dub,
Eric B and Rakim,
Whodini,
Eli Mardock,
Patti Smith,
Howard Jones,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.