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 Mauritania and from Lyon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro 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 Freddie Wadling to the crunk 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Cluster,
8 Eyed Spy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Flamin' Groovies,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Amazonics,
Tommy Roe,
Sex Pistols,
Ponytail,
the Association,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Josef K,
Nils Olav,
The Stooges,
Man Parrish,
Minnie Riperton,
Ultra Naté,
Grandmaster Flash,
UT,
Black Pus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Babytalk,
Minutemen,
The Residents,
Eli Mardock,
Moby Grape,
Crime,
The Mojo Men,
The Selecter,
Graham Central Station,
Cameo,
Lalann,
Half Japanese,
R.M.O.,
The Dave Clark Five,
Moebius,
Bang On A Can,
Suicide,
Monks,
MDC,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Slits,
Eden Ahbez,
Matthew Bourne,
Hashim,
Slick Rick,
Kenny Larkin,
Amon Düül II,
Minny Pops,
Massinfluence,
Gichy Dan,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Sonics,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Model 500,
Barbara Tucker,
Mars,
Blossom Toes,
Gang of Four,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.