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 Comoros and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar 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 Human League to the electroclash 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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
Prince Buster,
James White and The Blacks,
Monks,
Danielle Patucci,
The Five Americans,
The Birthday Party,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Second Layer,
Eric Dolphy,
K-Klass,
Newcleus,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rufus Thomas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The United States of America,
ABBA,
Subhumans,
Soft Cell,
Idris Muhammad,
The Gap Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Skarface,
World's Most,
Black Flag,
Can,
The Angels of Light,
Blake Baxter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Graham Central Station,
the Soft Cell,
New York Dolls,
Monolake,
Bush Tetras,
Laurel Aitken,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Make Up,
Black Pus,
Marc Almond,
Cal Tjader,
Desert Stars,
the Association,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Niagra,
Jacques Brel,
Kenny Larkin,
Brass Construction,
Reuben Wilson,
Ronnie Foster,
Index,
Pere Ubu,
Thee Headcoats,
David Axelrod,
Gregory Isaacs,
Aloha Tigers,
Hoover,
Accadde A,
E-Dancer,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cybotron,
Black Bananas,
CMW,
Wasted Youth,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.