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 Romania and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Funkadelic to the rock 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Sister Nancy,
U.S. Maple,
Amon Düül II,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bush Tetras,
Japan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Terry Callier,
The Five Americans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Warren Ellis,
The Neon Judgement,
Bootsy Collins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
KRS-One,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Max Romeo,
FM Einheit,
Neil Young,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soul II Soul,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Supertramp,
Aswad,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sparks,
B.T. Express,
Ohio Players,
Faraquet,
Sarah Menescal,
Subhumans,
Chrome,
Jeru the Damaja,
Loose Ends,
Bobby Womack,
Maurizio,
Lucky Dragons,
Brick,
Lindisfarne,
The Gap Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Drexciya,
The Music Machine,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Star Department,
Rites of Spring,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fire Engines,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radio Birdman,
a-ha,
Boogie Down Productions,
One Last Wish,
The Knickerbockers,
Angry Samoans,
Fad Gadget,
Henry Cow,
Nils Olav,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.