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 Libya and from Seoul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ornette Coleman to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
Amon Düül II,
Fluxion,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Black Sheep,
The New Christs,
Anakelly,
Mantronix,
Ornette Coleman,
Mo-Dettes,
The Red Krayola,
Buzzcocks,
Echospace,
Mr. Review,
The Searchers,
Bad Manners,
Lyres,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Smiths,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eric Dolphy,
Whodini,
Chris Corsano,
Nation of Ulysses,
Hashim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobby Sherman,
KRS-One,
Bill Wells,
Country Teasers,
Silicon Teens,
Surgeon,
Gang of Four,
E-Dancer,
Minor Threat,
Main Source,
Qualms,
Harry Pussy,
Patti Smith,
Siglo XX,
Bob Dylan,
Rod Modell,
Subhumans,
Robert Wyatt,
Audionom,
Banda Bassotti,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
This Heat,
Skaos,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fela Kuti,
Kurtis Blow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Leaves,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
New Age Steppers,
Minnie Riperton,
Hardrive,
Glambeats Corp.,
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.