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 Cambodia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Blossom Toes to the punk 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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
The Trojans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kenny Larkin,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Vladislav Delay,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Slits,
The Saints,
Nick Fraelich,
Basic Channel,
These Immortal Souls,
Hot Snakes,
Connie Case,
Anakelly,
Gang Starr,
Nirvana,
Anthony Braxton,
Second Layer,
The Mummies,
Brick,
China Crisis,
T. Rex,
Lou Christie,
Sällskapet,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Count Five,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Pus,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Fortunes,
Babytalk,
The Stooges,
DJ Style,
Scrapy,
Albert Ayler,
Symarip,
X-Ray Spex,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Lydon,
The Fire Engines,
Stiv Bators,
FM Einheit,
the Soft Cell,
Minutemen,
The Toasters,
Camouflage,
Schoolly D,
Sandy B,
Joensuu 1685,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Popol Vuh,
Lungfish,
Arthur Verocai,
Mary Jane Girls,
Minor Threat,
Yusef Lateef,
Scan 7,
Steve Hackett,
Audionom,
Scion,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.