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 El Salvador and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Crash Course in Science to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
The Leaves,
Don Cherry,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Slits,
Barclay James Harvest,
Stereo Dub,
Sonny Sharrock,
Robert Görl,
Sexual Harrassment,
Faust,
X-Ray Spex,
Mars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ornette Coleman,
X-101,
Suicide,
Yazoo,
the Bar-Kays,
Lindisfarne,
The Blues Magoos,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Thee Headcoats,
David McCallum,
Josef K,
X-102,
Warren Ellis,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Residents,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dead Boys,
Organ,
Marvin Gaye,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Index,
Scrapy,
Franke,
Pierre Henry,
Barry Ungar,
Angry Samoans,
The Saints,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bootsy Collins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Robert Wyatt,
Buzzcocks,
The Slackers,
Sugar Minott,
Rites of Spring,
Stetsasonic,
Dennis Brown,
John Foxx,
Sandy B,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Outsiders,
The Zeros,
Shuggie Otis,
Can,
Michelle Simonal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Main Source,
48th St. Collective,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.