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 Eritrea and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 New Order to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Evens. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Stockholm Monsters,
Reuben Wilson,
Technova,
The United States of America,
The Fuzztones,
the Bar-Kays,
Youth Brigade,
Joe Smooth,
Gang of Four,
Eve St. Jones,
Can,
Sexual Harrassment,
Warsaw,
Cluster,
Symarip,
Severed Heads,
The Fortunes,
Make Up,
Zero Boys,
Icehouse,
Tim Buckley,
Essential Logic,
Black Pus,
Stiv Bators,
Siglo XX,
The Moody Blues,
The Music Machine,
The Modern Lovers,
Rites of Spring,
Country Teasers,
Nik Kershaw,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
David Bowie,
Lindisfarne,
Marvin Gaye,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cybotron,
Junior Murvin,
Porter Ricks,
Easy Going,
Yaz,
Negative Approach,
T. Rex,
Matthew Bourne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Guru Guru,
Liliput,
Sex Pistols,
Schoolly D,
Jeff Mills,
Sonic Youth,
Lightning Bolt,
The Raincoats,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
UT,
Silicon Teens,
Simply Red,
Barbara Tucker,
The New Christs,
X-102,
Subhumans,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.