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 Mongolia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Taipei.
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 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 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 48th St. Collective to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 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 Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
The Zeros,
Tom Boy,
the Slits,
Bad Manners,
Crash Course in Science,
The Searchers,
June of 44,
Curtis Mayfield,
Aural Exciters,
Roxette,
Drexciya,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Slave,
Dennis Brown,
The Real Kids,
Pantaleimon,
Rufus Thomas,
Second Layer,
The Young Rascals,
Index,
Duran Duran,
Malaria!,
Soft Machine,
Harry Pussy,
Hot Snakes,
Fatback Band,
Porter Ricks,
Mo-Dettes,
Essential Logic,
Lebanon Hanover,
Barbara Tucker,
Arab on Radar,
Can,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Names,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Busters,
The American Breed,
Schoolly D,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Stooges,
Sandy B,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Techniques,
ABBA,
Excepter,
Neil Young,
Davy DMX,
Clear Light,
Audionom,
Minor Threat,
Scion,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Shoche,
The Cure,
Gong,
The Offenders,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Y Pants,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.