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 Tehran.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the grime 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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Fluxion,
Pet Shop Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Liliput,
Mary Jane Girls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jacques Brel,
Swell Maps,
Fugazi,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Swans,
ABBA,
Pulsallama,
JFA,
Sonic Youth,
The Fugs,
Depeche Mode,
Can,
Cameo,
The Residents,
U.S. Maple,
Skaos,
E-Dancer,
Surgeon,
Michelle Simonal,
The Offenders,
Young Marble Giants,
Amazonics,
Vainqueur,
The Real Kids,
Derrick Morgan,
CMW,
Gang Green,
Lou Reed,
Agent Orange,
Animal Collective,
Duran Duran,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The United States of America,
10cc,
Eve St. Jones,
Albert Ayler,
EPMD,
the Human League,
Minutemen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Monks,
Unwound,
Mo-Dettes,
David Bowie,
The Star Department,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Isaac Hayes,
The Slits,
Sex Pistols,
The Cowsills,
The Mummies,
Smog,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.