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 Rwanda and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 John Lydon to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Smog,
Jeff Lynne,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
This Heat,
Kenny Larkin,
The Cure,
Monks,
Nas,
Man Eating Sloth,
John Lydon,
The Dirtbombs,
Jerry's Kids,
Ken Boothe,
Archie Shepp,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Zero Boys,
Scratch Acid,
Ronan,
Joey Negro,
Massinfluence,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Remains,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bootsy Collins,
Flash Fearless,
Cal Tjader,
Symarip,
The Zeros,
Aswad,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Maurizio,
The Blues Magoos,
Wally Richardson,
The Kinks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Roxette,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fatback Band,
Dark Day,
Bang On A Can,
Tom Boy,
B.T. Express,
Schoolly D,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sonic Youth,
Marvin Gaye,
The Young Rascals,
Johnny Clarke,
Scientists,
Max Romeo,
The Golliwogs,
Hoover,
Ornette Coleman,
the Association,
Vladislav Delay,
New Age Steppers,
Q and Not U,
Flamin' Groovies,
Saccharine Trust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.