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 Kazakhstan and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 David McCallum to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aaron Thompson,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Funky Four + One,
Subhumans,
Sarah Menescal,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ice-T,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sight & Sound,
the Swans,
The J.B.'s,
cv313,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Royal Trux,
Shoche,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marmalade,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eden Ahbez,
Scion,
H. Thieme,
Masters at Work,
B.T. Express,
Moby Grape,
Spandau Ballet,
Erasure,
Rakim,
Bauhaus,
Prince Buster,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Shuggie Otis,
Rod Modell,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Piero Umiliani,
T. Rex,
Mars,
Marine Girls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Icehouse,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Foxx,
Lindisfarne,
The Associates,
Bill Wells,
Urselle,
Radiohead,
The Dirtbombs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sun Ra,
Bill Near,
Amazonics,
The Fugs,
Dead Boys,
Thompson Twins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Evens,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Toasters,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.