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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kinks to the disco 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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Rakim,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aloha Tigers,
The Divine Comedy,
Crime,
James White and The Blacks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Shadows of Knight,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lalann,
Aaron Thompson,
The Mummies,
Scientists,
Danielle Patucci,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
World's Most,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lakeside,
Fatback Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
10cc,
Surgeon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lebanon Hanover,
KRS-One,
Technova,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Babytalk,
The Cowsills,
Scratch Acid,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Happenings,
Sex Pistols,
Ronnie Foster,
Zapp,
The Litter,
Cymande,
Animal Collective,
Pierre Henry,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fugs,
Oneida,
Japan,
The Martian,
The Names,
X-Ray Spex,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marmalade,
Buzzcocks,
The Dirtbombs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Byron Stingily,
Dead Boys,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Todd Rundgren,
Parry Music,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Electric Prunes,
Lindisfarne,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.