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 Uganda and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Main Source to the grime 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Moby Grape,
Swell Maps,
Roxette,
Interpol,
Eddi Front,
The Techniques,
Gong,
Pussy Galore,
Rites of Spring,
Newcleus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sixth Finger,
David Axelrod,
Agitation Free,
Juan Atkins,
Severed Heads,
Davy DMX,
the Bar-Kays,
Eurythmics,
Fela Kuti,
Barry Ungar,
The Doobie Brothers,
kango's stein massive,
One Last Wish,
Hoover,
Skriet,
Electric Prunes,
Fat Boys,
Al Stewart,
Deakin,
Roxy Music,
Popol Vuh,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Anakelly,
Dead Boys,
Motorama,
Minutemen,
Yaz,
Pagans,
Fluxion,
Wally Richardson,
Marmalade,
The Saints,
Television Personalities,
Byron Stingily,
Black Pus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobby Womack,
Supertramp,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Young Rascals,
Icehouse,
Gang of Four,
The Fire Engines,
Gang Starr,
Excepter,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bronski Beat,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.