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 Belarus and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
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 linndrum 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 Camberwell Now to the techno 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mad Mike,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang of Four,
Eric Copeland,
Patti Smith,
Soft Cell,
Quando Quango,
Quadrant,
Country Teasers,
Yellowson,
Smog,
In Retrospect,
Buzzcocks,
Sandy B,
Ultimate Spinach,
The New Christs,
Aural Exciters,
Black Flag,
Arab on Radar,
The Human League,
Sex Pistols,
Jawbox,
Niagra,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Unwound,
Tom Boy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Amon Düül II,
Joyce Sims,
Make Up,
E-Dancer,
Fela Kuti,
Marvin Gaye,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Pus,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Man Parrish,
La Düsseldorf,
Iggy Pop,
Ponytail,
The Pop Group,
Intrusion,
Delta 5,
Lebanon Hanover,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ohio Players,
The Alarm Clocks,
Don Cherry,
Fluxion,
KRS-One,
Groovy Waters,
China Crisis,
Sixth Finger,
Sight & Sound,
Infiniti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Piero Umiliani,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.