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 Mexico and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kenny Larkin to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
Fad Gadget,
Tim Buckley,
The Busters,
JFA,
Mission of Burma,
Janne Schatter,
Excepter,
Agent Orange,
The Music Machine,
Technova,
Das Ding,
Cluster,
Ice-T,
Guru Guru,
Sight & Sound,
Charles Mingus,
Basic Channel,
The Smiths,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare,
Make Up,
Neu!,
One Last Wish,
Subhumans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Harmonia,
David McCallum,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Soulsonic Force,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Warsaw,
Hardrive,
David Bowie,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fela Kuti,
Pantytec,
Pagans,
Lightning Bolt,
Metal Thangz,
Pussy Galore,
Television Personalities,
DNA,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Carl Craig,
The Toasters,
Unrelated Segments,
The Mummies,
The Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kayak,
The Electric Prunes,
The Tremeloes,
Cymande,
Y Pants,
David Axelrod,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Dirtbombs,
Reuben Wilson,
Trumans Water,
Hasil Adkins,
Kurtis Blow,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.