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 Seychelles and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Faust to the electroclash 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Index,
David Axelrod,
The Selecter,
Hasil Adkins,
Radiopuhelimet,
Amon Düül II,
Laurel Aitken,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lower 48,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Desert Stars,
Public Enemy,
Nils Olav,
The Buckinghams,
Outsiders,
Sällskapet,
The Red Krayola,
The Gladiators,
Unwound,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Kinks,
The Litter,
Arab on Radar,
The Real Kids,
Banda Bassotti,
The Young Rascals,
Scion,
Ice-T,
H. Thieme,
Tomorrow,
Idris Muhammad,
Niagra,
Masters at Work,
U.S. Maple,
The New Christs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Visage,
F. McDonald,
Smog,
John Cale,
Stetsasonic,
Interpol,
Rakim,
Country Teasers,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Durutti Column,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sister Nancy,
The Sound,
ABBA,
Robert Wyatt,
Tommy Roe,
Todd Terry,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sixth Finger,
Dark Day,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.