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 Finland and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 ABC to the funk 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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Hot Snakes,
Motorama,
Swell Maps,
Minnie Riperton,
Sugar Minott,
Das Ding,
Joey Negro,
Cal Tjader,
Scan 7,
Neu!,
Reagan Youth,
New York Dolls,
Jawbox,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Angels of Light,
The Fortunes,
Severed Heads,
Robert Hood,
Swans,
cv313,
Lakeside,
Alison Limerick,
Procol Harum,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ponytail,
Von Mondo,
John Foxx,
The Trojans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Echospace,
a-ha,
Jerry's Kids,
Thompson Twins,
Patti Smith,
The Blues Magoos,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Index,
Simply Red,
Peter and Kerry,
The Searchers,
The Kinks,
Yaz,
Harry Pussy,
Todd Terry,
Rakim,
Hashim,
Quando Quango,
OOIOO,
Tom Boy,
The Busters,
Los Fastidios,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Swans,
Banda Bassotti,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bauhaus,
The Moody Blues,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fall,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.