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 Philippines and from Spokane.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar 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 Cale to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang of Four,
Jandek,
Lalann,
DNA,
Black Pus,
The Star Department,
Pussy Galore,
John Holt,
Television,
Bobby Byrd,
Dual Sessions,
Marc Almond,
Faraquet,
The Seeds,
Stereo Dub,
Fugazi,
Marmalade,
Inner City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Vladislav Delay,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Suburban Knight,
Ken Boothe,
The Golliwogs,
Cybotron,
Sun City Girls,
Country Teasers,
Television Personalities,
The Real Kids,
Ten City,
Ossler,
Oneida,
Suicide,
Deakin,
Dave Gahan,
Agitation Free,
Lyres,
Bizarre Inc.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Bar-Kays,
Skaos,
Eric Copeland,
Bauhaus,
Scrapy,
Cheater Slicks,
The Neon Judgement,
Average White Band,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Donald Byrd,
The Durutti Column,
Severed Heads,
Thompson Twins,
Bill Wells,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Excepter,
Fear,
Scott Walker,
the Fania All-Stars,
Funkadelic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.