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 Ghana and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar 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 Eli Mardock to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Lalo Schifrin,
Don Cherry,
Unrelated Segments,
The Kinks,
Can,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ohio Players,
Brand Nubian,
Absolute Body Control,
Suburban Knight,
Chris Corsano,
Howard Jones,
Davy DMX,
The Slits,
The Music Machine,
The Dirtbombs,
The Searchers,
The Move,
the Swans,
Eve St. Jones,
Pantaleimon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Scratch Acid,
Amon Düül II,
The Modern Lovers,
Erasure,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gang Starr,
Desert Stars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Derrick Morgan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Q65,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Section 25,
Todd Rundgren,
Sight & Sound,
The Saints,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pantytec,
Derrick May,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultimate Spinach,
Barrington Levy,
Blake Baxter,
Pagans,
Aural Exciters,
Vainqueur,
Pole,
Idris Muhammad,
Los Fastidios,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fuzztones,
The Residents,
Gang Green,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.