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 United Kingdom and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
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 arpeggiator 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 Malaria! 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Hot Snakes,
Ituana,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fela Kuti,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cramps,
Sarah Menescal,
Howard Jones,
Bauhaus,
Parry Music,
Archie Shepp,
Rhythm & Sound,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fortunes,
Barbara Tucker,
Eric B and Rakim,
Blancmange,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Names,
Moss Icon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Don Cherry,
The Fugs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Symarip,
In Retrospect,
Iggy Pop,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
DJ Style,
L. Decosne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sight & Sound,
Babytalk,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Dark Day,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Tremeloes,
Scott Walker,
Metal Thangz,
The Real Kids,
Porter Ricks,
Pole,
Terry Callier,
Thompson Twins,
Bizarre Inc.,
Model 500,
Morten Harket,
Isaac Hayes,
Lower 48,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sam Rivers,
Bluetip,
A Certain Ratio,
Moebius,
Zero Boys,
Judy Mowatt,
The Wake,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.