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 Micronesia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pere Ubu to the techno 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Ultravox,
The Music Machine,
Flash Fearless,
the Germs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Yusef Lateef,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Piero Umiliani,
The Standells,
Surgeon,
Soft Cell,
Slave,
Junior Murvin,
The Real Kids,
Soul Sonic Force,
Maleditus Sound,
Average White Band,
Smog,
Peter & Gordon,
New Age Steppers,
Pylon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mark Hollis,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Remains,
Johnny Osbourne,
Albert Ayler,
Scott Walker,
The Misunderstood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Hot Snakes,
Ornette Coleman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Prince Buster,
48th St. Collective,
Althea and Donna,
Lou Christie,
Marmalade,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Gap Band,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Girls At Our Best!,
Visage,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ronnie Foster,
Oblivians,
Rekid,
Model 500,
The Seeds,
Nirvana,
Gang Green,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.