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 Nepal and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Holger Czukay 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 Eric B and Rakim to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter 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?
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crime,
Spandau Ballet,
The Velvet Underground,
The Smiths,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Cure,
Shuggie Otis,
Panda Bear,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Fugs,
Buzzcocks,
Camberwell Now,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
H. Thieme,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Absolute Body Control,
The Cramps,
The Slits,
The Barracudas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Alphaville,
Maurizio,
Kurtis Blow,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Motorama,
Mr. Review,
Cameo,
The Evens,
Jesper Dahlback,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hot Snakes,
Tom Boy,
Aaron Thompson,
Soul II Soul,
Excepter,
Can,
Vainqueur,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Selecter,
CMW,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joey Negro,
the Sonics,
Jacob Miller,
Sarah Menescal,
Charles Mingus,
Derrick May,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Talk Talk,
John Foxx,
The Victims,
Gastr Del Sol,
Babytalk,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Minny Pops,
8 Eyed Spy,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.