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 Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator 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 Jeru the Damaja to the rap 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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Marcia Griffiths,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Cure,
The Dirtbombs,
Harmonia,
Andrew Hill,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tropical Tobacco,
Icehouse,
Mark Hollis,
Guru Guru,
Babytalk,
Kurtis Blow,
Duran Duran,
Mission of Burma,
FM Einheit,
Khruangbin,
Anakelly,
Wolf Eyes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
John Foxx,
Alton Ellis,
Pantaleimon,
Camouflage,
The Last Poets,
Mr. Review,
Chris & Cosey,
Prince Buster,
Echospace,
Ohio Players,
Patti Smith,
Juan Atkins,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Black Dice,
In Retrospect,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gastr Del Sol,
Angry Samoans,
Oneida,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Man Parrish,
The J.B.'s,
Joe Finger,
The Fall,
Sugar Minott,
Index,
Kenny Larkin,
Young Marble Giants,
Lucky Dragons,
Grandmaster Flash,
Minny Pops,
Scientists,
Janne Schatter,
The Misunderstood,
Lakeside,
Tom Boy,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.