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 Ethiopia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Alarm Clocks to the rap 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet 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 güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
The Electric Prunes,
Agitation Free,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ronan,
Motorama,
Roy Ayers,
Pantytec,
Kevin Saunderson,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fuzztones,
Public Enemy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Patti Smith,
Silicon Teens,
Zero Boys,
Malaria!,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ice-T,
Ossler,
Los Fastidios,
Siglo XX,
LL Cool J,
Toni Rubio,
Eddi Front,
Black Sheep,
Babytalk,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Max Romeo,
Todd Rundgren,
Maleditus Sound,
Blake Baxter,
The United States of America,
Bootsy Collins,
Kas Product,
E-Dancer,
Bluetip,
Sister Nancy,
Grey Daturas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Neon Judgement,
Roxy Music,
Marshall Jefferson,
Faust,
The Buckinghams,
Sonny Sharrock,
Arthur Verocai,
The Alarm Clocks,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Raincoats,
Joe Finger,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Derrick Morgan,
Second Layer,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Skarface,
Gastr Del Sol,
Minny Pops,
The Invisible,
The Blues Magoos,
David Axelrod,
Gang Starr,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.