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 Burkina and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum 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 The Doors 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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
X-102,
Spoonie Gee,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Can,
Sixth Finger,
Tres Demented,
Joe Finger,
Siglo XX,
K-Klass,
The New Christs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
Average White Band,
Niagra,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pagans,
ABC,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Slits,
Nils Olav,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Section 25,
Yazoo,
Pylon,
Pierre Henry,
The Kinks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Roger Hodgson,
Albert Ayler,
Robert Hood,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cybotron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Amazonics,
Bootsy Collins,
Crooked Eye,
The Moleskins,
Pussy Galore,
Das Ding,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brand Nubian,
Spandau Ballet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Adolescents,
The Toasters,
Faust,
The Associates,
Sparks,
Alison Limerick,
Josef K,
Vladislav Delay,
Todd Rundgren,
Lightning Bolt,
Bang On A Can,
F. McDonald,
10cc,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Holt,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.