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 Finland and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gang of Four to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Camberwell Now,
Quantec,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nick Fraelich,
Sparks,
The Velvet Underground,
Erasure,
Gang of Four,
Black Flag,
Ornette Coleman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Circle Jerks,
Man Parrish,
Brothers Johnson,
China Crisis,
Ponytail,
Cameo,
Black Moon,
F. McDonald,
X-Ray Spex,
The Sonics,
The Litter,
The Gun Club,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Dawn Penn,
Liliput,
Franke,
Little Man,
Nas,
Siglo XX,
Lakeside,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Count Five,
Donald Byrd,
Index,
The Fire Engines,
Guru Guru,
Nico,
Underground Resistance,
Goldenarms,
The Seeds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lungfish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Howard Jones,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Suicide,
The Blues Magoos,
The Evens,
Wolf Eyes,
Cybotron,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gichy Dan,
Clear Light,
Jacob Miller,
Country Teasers,
Silicon Teens,
Lalo Schifrin,
Arab on Radar,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.