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 Ecuador and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Joyce Sims to the grime 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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
The Red Krayola,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Peter and Kerry,
Public Enemy,
Agitation Free,
Arab on Radar,
Alton Ellis,
The Five Americans,
Joey Negro,
Aswad,
Lakeside,
Cal Tjader,
The Doobie Brothers,
Talk Talk,
the Bar-Kays,
Brass Construction,
Darondo,
Bauhaus,
Hot Snakes,
Bush Tetras,
The Velvet Underground,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Knickerbockers,
Wolf Eyes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joe Finger,
World's Most,
Barry Ungar,
Urselle,
Soft Cell,
Faraquet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Byron Stingily,
Flamin' Groovies,
Index,
Crime,
Scientists,
The Doors,
Skriet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Masters at Work,
The Human League,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Holt,
The Martian,
Infiniti,
Adolescents,
Desert Stars,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Neon Judgement,
Outsiders,
The Buckinghams,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Livin' Joy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
New York Dolls,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.