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 Cape Verde and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Whodini to the funk 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Black Sheep,
Bronski Beat,
Model 500,
Siglo XX,
Fatback Band,
Glenn Branca,
Niagra,
Rosa Yemen,
New Age Steppers,
Rapeman,
kango's stein massive,
Metal Thangz,
Connie Case,
Maurizio,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lindisfarne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Pretty Things,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Swans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Brand Nubian,
Michelle Simonal,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Wake,
Average White Band,
Moebius,
DNA,
The Fall,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arthur Verocai,
Babytalk,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Moon,
Mad Mike,
Whodini,
Interpol,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dawn Penn,
Marshall Jefferson,
Josef K,
Crooked Eye,
Outsiders,
Kas Product,
Youth Brigade,
Basic Channel,
Black Bananas,
Rod Modell,
Be Bop Deluxe,
John Lydon,
Amon Düül II,
The Smiths,
The Sound,
The Litter,
Wire,
The Human League,
The Gap Band,
Joy Division,
Dead Boys,
Arab on Radar,
Popol Vuh,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.