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 Liberia and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro 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 Crime to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Soft Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Whodini,
Hasil Adkins,
Grandmaster Flash,
Man Eating Sloth,
Swell Maps,
The Mummies,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Porter Ricks,
Arcadia,
The Velvet Underground,
Audionom,
Iggy Pop,
Flamin' Groovies,
China Crisis,
The Trojans,
Desert Stars,
Crooked Eye,
Skaos,
Slick Rick,
Popol Vuh,
Duran Duran,
Isaac Hayes,
The Five Americans,
Cybotron,
David Axelrod,
Urselle,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Stiv Bators,
Fela Kuti,
Loose Ends,
Soul Sonic Force,
Can,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Holt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric Dolphy,
Cheater Slicks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Scion,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Pop Group,
The Durutti Column,
Thee Headcoats,
Yellowson,
The Tremeloes,
Derrick Morgan,
Con Funk Shun,
Khruangbin,
Absolute Body Control,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cymande,
The Dave Clark Five,
Inner City,
The Martian,
Ultra Naté,
The Move,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.