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 Andorra and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Popol Vuh to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cybotron,
David McCallum,
Robert Görl,
Tim Buckley,
Popol Vuh,
Bang On A Can,
Panda Bear,
The Moody Blues,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fat Boys,
Donald Byrd,
Black Bananas,
Massinfluence,
Isaac Hayes,
Byron Stingily,
T.S.O.L.,
Fugazi,
Das Ding,
Bush Tetras,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Real Kids,
World's Most,
Magma,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sister Nancy,
Loose Ends,
Inner City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rekid,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Martian,
Leonard Cohen,
Amon Düül II,
Joey Negro,
Swans,
Tres Demented,
K-Klass,
Nirvana,
Blossom Toes,
Jeff Mills,
Deepchord,
The Names,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gap Band,
Patti Smith,
Model 500,
Reuben Wilson,
Whodini,
Rakim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Monolake,
Gang Starr,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dirtbombs,
The Doors,
Moby Grape,
The Beau Brummels,
Joe Smooth,
Toni Rubio,
Mad Mike,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.