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 Bahamas and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Nick Fraelich to the grime 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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Index,
Radiohead,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Names,
Thee Headcoats,
the Germs,
Blancmange,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Joyce Sims,
Infiniti,
Amon Düül II,
Sugar Minott,
The Gun Club,
The Monochrome Set,
A Certain Ratio,
The New Christs,
World's Most,
New Order,
Davy DMX,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Yellowson,
The Angels of Light,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Faust,
Rod Modell,
X-Ray Spex,
The Alarm Clocks,
Brass Construction,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tubeway Army,
Althea and Donna,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Zapp,
Pulsallama,
the Slits,
Scientists,
The Gories,
Crime,
Grandmaster Flash,
Procol Harum,
Saccharine Trust,
Goldenarms,
Pere Ubu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Black Dice,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fatback Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Masters at Work,
The Divine Comedy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Arthur Verocai,
MDC,
Roxette,
48th St. Collective,
Loose Ends,
Andrew Hill,
John Holt,
Youth Brigade,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.