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 Djibouti and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar 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 Terry Callier to the rock 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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Soul II Soul,
Susan Cadogan,
Big Daddy Kane,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kayak,
Smog,
The Vogues,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fatback Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Max Romeo,
Black Moon,
Morten Harket,
Quando Quango,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
DJ Style,
The Index,
Los Fastidios,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dead Boys,
Radio Birdman,
Underground Resistance,
8 Eyed Spy,
Byron Stingily,
The Blues Magoos,
Shoche,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lou Christie,
Ossler,
X-Ray Spex,
Altered Images,
Ludus,
Grey Daturas,
Cameo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kurtis Blow,
Sonic Youth,
The Victims,
Ultimate Spinach,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Black Sheep,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yusef Lateef,
Half Japanese,
Thompson Twins,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gichy Dan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Anakelly,
Fluxion,
Tommy Roe,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dirtbombs,
Ponytail,
The Trojans,
Thee Headcoats,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Intrusion,
Stereo Dub,
Juan Atkins,
Carl Craig,
Letta Mbulu,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.