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 Malawi and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Tres Demented to the jazz 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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Fad Gadget,
Pantaleimon,
Heaven 17,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pagans,
The Golliwogs,
Rakim,
Erykah Badu,
Alice Coltrane,
Sarah Menescal,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Brothers Johnson,
Joe Smooth,
Dawn Penn,
The Skatalites,
The Selecter,
Reagan Youth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cecil Taylor,
Wally Richardson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fuzztones,
Rod Modell,
Flipper,
Crooked Eye,
CMW,
Kerri Chandler,
Bauhaus,
The Dirtbombs,
June of 44,
The Kinks,
Amazonics,
Johnny Osbourne,
Letta Mbulu,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Byrd,
Ponytail,
Joey Negro,
The Busters,
Electric Prunes,
Gichy Dan,
Marvin Gaye,
the Normal,
Slave,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Litter,
Lucky Dragons,
Pussy Galore,
Mantronix,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lou Reed,
La Düsseldorf,
Spoonie Gee,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Residents,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jeff Lynne,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.