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 Morocco and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Last Poets to the funk 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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Scion,
Yaz,
Jandek,
Stockholm Monsters,
cv313,
The Barracudas,
Marc Almond,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Brass Construction,
Average White Band,
Shoche,
The Toasters,
Letta Mbulu,
CMW,
The Move,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
PIL,
The Smoke,
The Grass Roots,
The Litter,
Pantaleimon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sight & Sound,
Stetsasonic,
Oneida,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mark Hollis,
Roger Hodgson,
Supertramp,
Anakelly,
Bizarre Inc.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pole,
The American Breed,
the Association,
Ice-T,
Joensuu 1685,
The Beau Brummels,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Harry Pussy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Pus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Busters,
Panda Bear,
Lou Reed,
The Neon Judgement,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Misunderstood,
Reagan Youth,
Japan,
Skriet,
The Young Rascals,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bootsy Collins,
Sister Nancy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soft Machine,
Nirvana,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.