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 Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manila.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Gun Club to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Robert Wyatt,
Depeche Mode,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fugazi,
The Last Poets,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Radio Birdman,
The Index,
Desert Stars,
Mr. Review,
Hashim,
Sixth Finger,
Minny Pops,
The Cowsills,
Jerry's Kids,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Procol Harum,
Chris & Cosey,
EPMD,
Crash Course in Science,
Sparks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Zero Boys,
Monolake,
New York Dolls,
Royal Trux,
Faust,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Freddie Wadling,
Kurtis Blow,
The Martian,
OOIOO,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Shadows of Knight,
Chrome,
Ohio Players,
Altered Images,
The Knickerbockers,
Bluetip,
Ultravox,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mad Mike,
Althea and Donna,
Howard Jones,
Nick Fraelich,
Minor Threat,
Marvin Gaye,
Mantronix,
Marmalade,
Eddi Front,
The Fugs,
Connie Case,
The Toasters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The American Breed,
JFA,
Reuben Wilson,
This Heat,
Grey Daturas,
Agent Orange,
Camouflage,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.