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 Zambia and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ 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 Camouflage to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
James White and The Blacks,
Bill Near,
Mission of Burma,
The Saints,
the Human League,
Siglo XX,
Toni Rubio,
Deepchord,
Mr. Review,
Ornette Coleman,
Crime,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sun City Girls,
Guru Guru,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Television Personalities,
Skaos,
Masters at Work,
The Fire Engines,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tim Buckley,
Audionom,
kango's stein massive,
The Motions,
Desert Stars,
Pantytec,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Second Layer,
Kerri Chandler,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Aloha Tigers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
World's Most,
Cheater Slicks,
Minutemen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Interpol,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Porter Ricks,
Lower 48,
Black Pus,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fuzztones,
E-Dancer,
Cecil Taylor,
Rufus Thomas,
The Skatalites,
David McCallum,
The Misunderstood,
Peter & Gordon,
Blossom Toes,
Youth Brigade,
Mad Mike,
Black Sheep,
Goldenarms,
Echospace,
Yazoo,
Saccharine Trust,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.