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 Peru and from Delhi.
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 Spokane and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
The Slackers,
The Moleskins,
The Gories,
Surgeon,
Iggy Pop,
The Gap Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
48th St. Collective,
Absolute Body Control,
Franke,
Warsaw,
Spoonie Gee,
Harry Pussy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Human League,
Peter & Gordon,
X-101,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kerri Chandler,
Lightning Bolt,
Infiniti,
Angry Samoans,
Das Ding,
Crooked Eye,
Brick,
Alton Ellis,
The Move,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Monochrome Set,
OOIOO,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rod Modell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Selecter,
Pagans,
Ultra Naté,
Kas Product,
Fela Kuti,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mad Mike,
The Buckinghams,
The Invisible,
Marmalade,
The Mummies,
MDC,
Michelle Simonal,
The Litter,
Qualms,
Suicide,
Cheater Slicks,
John Foxx,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Q65,
The Beau Brummels,
Tomorrow,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Buzzcocks,
The Fugs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.