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 Marshall Islands and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 The Fall to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
The Slits,
Crooked Eye,
Max Romeo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Funkadelic,
Traffic Nightmare,
Simply Red,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Second Layer,
Royal Trux,
Prince Buster,
The Buckinghams,
Juan Atkins,
Faust,
Joy Division,
Suburban Knight,
The Slackers,
The Trojans,
Half Japanese,
Kaleidoscope,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sandy B,
Alton Ellis,
Hoover,
Donny Hathaway,
The Moleskins,
Stockholm Monsters,
Stereo Dub,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Intrusion,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Move,
Erykah Badu,
The Fortunes,
Cecil Taylor,
Grandmaster Flash,
Erasure,
Duran Duran,
Don Cherry,
Matthew Halsall,
The Last Poets,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Inner City,
The Happenings,
Section 25,
The Litter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sällskapet,
Lyres,
The Electric Prunes,
Sam Rivers,
Soft Cell,
James White and The Blacks,
The Red Krayola,
The New Christs,
OOIOO,
Big Daddy Kane,
Derrick Morgan,
DJ Sneak,
Eli Mardock,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.