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 France and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 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 June Days to the rap 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jeru the Damaja,
Excepter,
Fear,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Music Machine,
Alison Limerick,
Soft Machine,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Oneida,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marmalade,
Gang Starr,
Suburban Knight,
Guru Guru,
One Last Wish,
The Kinks,
Sandy B,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Yaz,
Q and Not U,
This Heat,
Danielle Patucci,
F. McDonald,
Ludus,
Nik Kershaw,
Urselle,
Von Mondo,
Skarface,
Skriet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mantronix,
Ornette Coleman,
New Order,
Pierre Henry,
Fat Boys,
Joey Negro,
Judy Mowatt,
The Standells,
Drexciya,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young,
Severed Heads,
Jerry's Kids,
Graham Central Station,
Porter Ricks,
The Velvet Underground,
Smog,
Nirvana,
Amon Düül II,
The American Breed,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Young Rascals,
Soft Cell,
The Pop Group,
Schoolly D,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.