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 Guatemala and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Fugazi to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '70s.
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 The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
One Last Wish,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jawbox,
Tom Boy,
Lou Christie,
Darondo,
Bauhaus,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Intrusion,
Swell Maps,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cal Tjader,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sixth Finger,
The Slackers,
The Electric Prunes,
Magazine,
Ultravox,
Sex Pistols,
Godley & Creme,
Crash Course in Science,
Wire,
Thompson Twins,
Henry Cow,
Kevin Saunderson,
Donald Byrd,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Josef K,
Robert Wyatt,
Sam Rivers,
Agent Orange,
Gang Starr,
Davy DMX,
Yellowson,
Jandek,
Nils Olav,
Sparks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Black Dice,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rotary Connection,
Crooked Eye,
Underground Resistance,
Lindisfarne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gories,
Negative Approach,
Nik Kershaw,
OOIOO,
John Foxx,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pole,
Soft Cell,
Boredoms,
Gang of Four,
Ornette Coleman,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.