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 Rwanda and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Minor Threat to the dance 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 UT. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crash Course in Science,
Visage,
H. Thieme,
Country Joe & The Fish,
D'Angelo,
Robert Görl,
Mo-Dettes,
Guru Guru,
Max Romeo,
Talk Talk,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jeff Lynne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
K-Klass,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soulsonic Force,
John Coltrane,
The Fugs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eric Dolphy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hardrive,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun City Girls,
Todd Terry,
Lee Hazlewood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brick,
The Modern Lovers,
Arab on Radar,
Andrew Hill,
Fat Boys,
The Slackers,
Sun Ra,
Jeff Mills,
the Association,
The Gap Band,
Zapp,
Man Parrish,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Gories,
Black Bananas,
The Raincoats,
Joensuu 1685,
Maurizio,
The Buckinghams,
Throbbing Gristle,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Godley & Creme,
48th St. Collective,
Gabor Szabo,
Suicide,
Porter Ricks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Audionom,
Make Up,
The Black Dice,
E-Dancer,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.