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 Japan 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cowsills to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
The Smoke,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
One Last Wish,
Chrome,
Al Stewart,
Sight & Sound,
Erykah Badu,
Mandrill,
Kurtis Blow,
Brothers Johnson,
Flipper,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Minnie Riperton,
The Music Machine,
Average White Band,
R.M.O.,
The Five Americans,
Judy Mowatt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Blake Baxter,
Von Mondo,
Depeche Mode,
The Gap Band,
Tomorrow,
Stetsasonic,
Gabor Szabo,
Max Romeo,
The Cowsills,
Terrestrial Tones,
Japan,
Kayak,
Maurizio,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Peter and Kerry,
Gang Starr,
Slave,
The Names,
Jimmy McGriff,
Deakin,
The Selecter,
Cal Tjader,
Joy Division,
June of 44,
Jandek,
Moby Grape,
Byron Stingily,
Rakim,
X-102,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Oneida,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sonic Youth,
Half Japanese,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bauhaus,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.