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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Big Daddy Kane to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Kenny Larkin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mandrill,
Arthur Verocai,
the Slits,
Dead Boys,
Marmalade,
Mr. Review,
Essential Logic,
The Durutti Column,
Funkadelic,
Lyres,
Suburban Knight,
Sonny Sharrock,
Curtis Mayfield,
Faraquet,
Eurythmics,
Franke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Angry Samoans,
The Selecter,
Deakin,
Gang of Four,
EPMD,
Infiniti,
The Leaves,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nils Olav,
Ice-T,
Minutemen,
Minor Threat,
Talk Talk,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scion,
Agitation Free,
Godley & Creme,
Metal Thangz,
Fluxion,
Vladislav Delay,
Cal Tjader,
The Remains,
Michelle Simonal,
Matthew Halsall,
Stereo Dub,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bronski Beat,
Audionom,
Bobby Sherman,
Bill Near,
The Happenings,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cecil Taylor,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pulsallama,
Jimmy McGriff,
Minny Pops,
Royal Trux,
Soulsonic Force,
The Star Department,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.