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 Russia and from New York.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
The New Christs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cybotron,
Girls At Our Best!,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
John Cale,
Prince Buster,
Hasil Adkins,
the Association,
Spandau Ballet,
The Smoke,
Mantronix,
Brothers Johnson,
Roxy Music,
Iggy Pop,
The Golliwogs,
Rites of Spring,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Essential Logic,
The Busters,
Letta Mbulu,
Intrusion,
John Coltrane,
Neu!,
The Saints,
Kerrie Biddell,
Boredoms,
Eric Dolphy,
The Music Machine,
Yellowson,
Harry Pussy,
The Smiths,
Ten City,
The Zeros,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Connie Case,
Grauzone,
Peter and Kerry,
Lalann,
Ronnie Foster,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Idris Muhammad,
Glenn Branca,
Cluster,
Buzzcocks,
Albert Ayler,
Public Enemy,
Joe Smooth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Inner City,
Goldenarms,
Vladislav Delay,
Robert Görl,
Leonard Cohen,
Yaz,
The Move,
Los Fastidios,
Nick Fraelich,
Todd Rundgren,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.