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 Dominica and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Selecter to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Stetsasonic,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Idris Muhammad,
Derrick May,
Lungfish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vladislav Delay,
The Gladiators,
Wasted Youth,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Flamin' Groovies,
Franke,
Warsaw,
The New Christs,
World's Most,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang Starr,
Byron Stingily,
The Residents,
Bobby Womack,
Crash Course in Science,
The Toasters,
Scratch Acid,
Dawn Penn,
Nico,
The Busters,
Fatback Band,
Gang Green,
Wolf Eyes,
Dave Gahan,
Soulsonic Force,
The Move,
Black Flag,
The Slits,
Ten City,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Can,
ABC,
The Count Five,
Glenn Branca,
Zero Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Piero Umiliani,
Brand Nubian,
Bluetip,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Talk Talk,
Robert Hood,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Aaron Thompson,
The Cramps,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.