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 Niger and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb 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 Swell Maps to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soft Machine,
Severed Heads,
Flipper,
Kurtis Blow,
Radio Birdman,
Sällskapet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kerri Chandler,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
T. Rex,
Mars,
The Beau Brummels,
Qualms,
Bobby Byrd,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mark Hollis,
Darondo,
the Human League,
R.M.O.,
John Foxx,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Stereo Dub,
The Saints,
DJ Sneak,
Mo-Dettes,
The Red Krayola,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Little Man,
Soft Cell,
Masters at Work,
Robert Wyatt,
the Bar-Kays,
Ohio Players,
Lungfish,
Second Layer,
Archie Shepp,
Newcleus,
Monolake,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Searchers,
Albert Ayler,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Suburban Knight,
Eric Copeland,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
PIL,
Bob Dylan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pantytec,
Thee Headcoats,
Underground Resistance,
Crime,
Faust,
Barrington Levy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television,
The Skatalites,
Rosa Yemen,
Zero Boys,
Heaven 17,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.