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 El Salvador and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Human League to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Evens. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Skaos,
These Immortal Souls,
the Swans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lindisfarne,
Symarip,
Mark Hollis,
Morten Harket,
Barry Ungar,
Little Man,
The Slits,
kango's stein massive,
Bootsy Collins,
Big Daddy Kane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Sound,
Outsiders,
Spandau Ballet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Blossom Toes,
Urselle,
MC5,
Chris & Cosey,
Joe Finger,
Soft Cell,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Minor Threat,
The Smoke,
Absolute Body Control,
Hardrive,
Stockholm Monsters,
Andrew Hill,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Popol Vuh,
The Happenings,
Harry Pussy,
Black Bananas,
Crooked Eye,
EPMD,
Hot Snakes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Todd Rundgren,
Archie Shepp,
The Monks,
Zapp,
Wolf Eyes,
Babytalk,
Banda Bassotti,
The Smiths,
Gong,
Deadbeat,
Fugazi,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.