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 Ireland and from Accra.
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 Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the rock 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Spoonie Gee,
Banda Bassotti,
Neil Young,
Gabor Szabo,
Prince Buster,
Marmalade,
Ultravox,
CMW,
Jacob Miller,
Joyce Sims,
Josef K,
the Bar-Kays,
The Seeds,
The Tremeloes,
Gong,
KRS-One,
The Saints,
Masters at Work,
Aswad,
X-Ray Spex,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Zapp,
The Doobie Brothers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Skatalites,
Erasure,
Hasil Adkins,
Smog,
Soul Sonic Force,
Inner City,
Silicon Teens,
Glambeats Corp.,
Drexciya,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eli Mardock,
Mad Mike,
PIL,
Marine Girls,
The Mummies,
Tubeway Army,
Youth Brigade,
the Fania All-Stars,
Siglo XX,
The Golliwogs,
Joy Division,
Average White Band,
The Slackers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rakim,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sällskapet,
Gang Green,
Metal Thangz,
Yusef Lateef,
Saccharine Trust,
Theoretical Girls,
David McCallum,
The Mojo Men,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.