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 San Marino and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
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 arpeggiator 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 Fortunes to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Arab on Radar,
Saccharine Trust,
The Count Five,
The Names,
Sound Behaviour,
June Days,
Magazine,
Rufus Thomas,
KRS-One,
Ken Boothe,
Stiv Bators,
Pierre Henry,
Drive Like Jehu,
Amon Düül II,
Crispy Ambulance,
48th St. Collective,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
10cc,
Morten Harket,
Malaria!,
Fat Boys,
Pantaleimon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Outsiders,
Deadbeat,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gang Starr,
Tommy Roe,
The Selecter,
Spoonie Gee,
Japan,
Essential Logic,
Negative Approach,
Graham Central Station,
The Raincoats,
Nation of Ulysses,
EPMD,
The American Breed,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Echospace,
H. Thieme,
MC5,
Index,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Pretty Things,
The Durutti Column,
Scrapy,
Anakelly,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Chris Corsano,
The Pop Group,
Groovy Waters,
Dual Sessions,
Junior Murvin,
Chris & Cosey,
Danielle Patucci,
Tubeway Army,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.