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 Uganda and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 H. Thieme to the disco 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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
The J.B.'s,
The American Breed,
Robert Görl,
Jeru the Damaja,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sun Ra,
Skriet,
The Star Department,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
E-Dancer,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Interpol,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cramps,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gastr Del Sol,
Y Pants,
Scan 7,
The Knickerbockers,
D'Angelo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Patti Smith,
Massinfluence,
Ken Boothe,
Babytalk,
Magma,
Funky Four + One,
Soulsonic Force,
Whodini,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Livin' Joy,
Oblivians,
Rapeman,
Big Daddy Kane,
Main Source,
Basic Channel,
Stiv Bators,
JFA,
F. McDonald,
X-Ray Spex,
Heaven 17,
Bronski Beat,
Godley & Creme,
Saccharine Trust,
Agent Orange,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Flipper,
Arthur Verocai,
Audionom,
LL Cool J,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cluster,
Average White Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Infiniti,
Spoonie Gee,
Malaria!,
Don Cherry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Pretty Things,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.