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 Fiji and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Blues Magoos to the grunge 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare,
Man Eating Sloth,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Angry Samoans,
Graham Central Station,
Arab on Radar,
Cluster,
Kenny Larkin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Easy Going,
JFA,
Dark Day,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barbara Tucker,
Stiv Bators,
The Beau Brummels,
Be Bop Deluxe,
EPMD,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fugs,
The Blues Magoos,
Y Pants,
Scrapy,
Robert Görl,
Suburban Knight,
Severed Heads,
The Doors,
Scion,
Lower 48,
Camouflage,
Das Ding,
Wally Richardson,
Slave,
Howard Jones,
Yellowson,
The Buckinghams,
Animal Collective,
Juan Atkins,
Erasure,
Connie Case,
Electric Prunes,
Freddie Wadling,
New York Dolls,
Lalann,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Vladislav Delay,
Rotary Connection,
Sonic Youth,
The Star Department,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Skriet,
Funkadelic,
Radiopuhelimet,
Brick,
Jeff Lynne,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.