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 United States and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Techniques to the rock 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti 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 a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Sparks,
Fad Gadget,
Dennis Brown,
Lindisfarne,
Roxy Music,
MDC,
Arab on Radar,
the Fania All-Stars,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Alice Coltrane,
Barclay James Harvest,
Maurizio,
Theoretical Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Blake Baxter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
John Lydon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fire Engines,
Barrington Levy,
10cc,
Terry Callier,
The Grass Roots,
Nils Olav,
Susan Cadogan,
The J.B.'s,
Wire,
Robert Hood,
Howard Jones,
UT,
Shoche,
The Index,
Black Flag,
Tom Boy,
Ken Boothe,
The Skatalites,
Ice-T,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Victims,
Lebanon Hanover,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Suburban Knight,
Eden Ahbez,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Golliwogs,
Ronnie Foster,
Wings,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Delta 5,
Swans,
the Soft Cell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dead Boys,
The Saints,
Alphaville,
Smog,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bill Near,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.