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 Ukraine and from Jakarta.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Idris Muhammad to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
World's Most,
Jeff Mills,
Funkadelic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Aloha Tigers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
DJ Style,
Porter Ricks,
ABBA,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vainqueur,
Silicon Teens,
Idris Muhammad,
the Swans,
The United States of America,
Dual Sessions,
Scott Walker,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Associates,
Graham Central Station,
The Angels of Light,
Joy Division,
Index,
Eddi Front,
Erasure,
The Real Kids,
X-Ray Spex,
John Lydon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lungfish,
Wally Richardson,
Inner City,
Symarip,
Marvin Gaye,
Sonic Youth,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dave Gahan,
Newcleus,
Talk Talk,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Can,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Godley & Creme,
Derrick May,
Aswad,
Man Parrish,
Roger Hodgson,
Angry Samoans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Martian,
The Mummies,
Theoretical Girls,
Shuggie Otis,
Harry Pussy,
The Cramps,
Pantytec,
Camouflage,
D'Angelo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.