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 Nicaragua and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the sitar 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 Marcia Griffiths to the electroclash 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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?
Skriet,
The Fire Engines,
Sight & Sound,
Rosa Yemen,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Adolescents,
Joy Division,
Frankie Knuckles,
Oneida,
Technova,
Jeff Mills,
The Star Department,
One Last Wish,
Outsiders,
The Vogues,
John Foxx,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bush Tetras,
Aswad,
Ronnie Foster,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Slick Rick,
Todd Terry,
MDC,
Amon Düül,
Accadde A,
The Saints,
Niagra,
Eric B and Rakim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rapeman,
Gabor Szabo,
Neu!,
Pole,
Barrington Levy,
Quando Quango,
AZ,
Lightning Bolt,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deadbeat,
The Monks,
Marvin Gaye,
Basic Channel,
Radio Birdman,
The Wake,
Bad Manners,
Minor Threat,
Gang Starr,
Steve Hackett,
Cymande,
Scrapy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nirvana,
Kenny Larkin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Al Stewart,
Chris Corsano,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobby Sherman,
T. Rex,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.