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 Bhutan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Index to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Faraquet,
Pagans,
Al Stewart,
Mad Mike,
Piero Umiliani,
The Last Poets,
Nik Kershaw,
Pussy Galore,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Blossom Toes,
Roxy Music,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Germs,
The Zeros,
Popol Vuh,
Wolf Eyes,
Banda Bassotti,
the Normal,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Erasure,
Angry Samoans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
K-Klass,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Swans,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Peter & Gordon,
In Retrospect,
Thee Headcoats,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tomorrow,
Circle Jerks,
Suburban Knight,
Bush Tetras,
Fat Boys,
The Pop Group,
The Fall,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cameo,
Joy Division,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Toasters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Terry Callier,
Underground Resistance,
Symarip,
Ornette Coleman,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wally Richardson,
Man Parrish,
Supertramp,
Dave Gahan,
Radiohead,
Technova,
Lungfish,
The Sonics,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ultravox,
The Cure,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.