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 Luxembourg and from Cairo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Malaria!,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Letta Mbulu,
Scan 7,
John Coltrane,
David Bowie,
Television Personalities,
The Cramps,
Pylon,
K-Klass,
Khruangbin,
Symarip,
the Bar-Kays,
the Human League,
John Lydon,
The Moody Blues,
New Age Steppers,
Colin Newman,
Accadde A,
Minor Threat,
Buzzcocks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Morten Harket,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marcia Griffiths,
Basic Channel,
The Wake,
Scientists,
The Pretty Things,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Pus,
Alice Coltrane,
Moebius,
Anakelly,
Erykah Badu,
Grauzone,
Kurtis Blow,
Cecil Taylor,
Grey Daturas,
Absolute Body Control,
Depeche Mode,
MDC,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pole,
Funky Four + One,
Circle Jerks,
Peter & Gordon,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Busters,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nation of Ulysses,
The Monks,
Chris Corsano,
Subhumans,
Ludus,
Saccharine Trust,
Wings,
Nik Kershaw,
Harmonia,
Sonic Youth,
Hoover,
Harpers Bizarre,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.