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 Equatorial Guinea and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Black Flag to the grime 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Banda Bassotti,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gang Starr,
Joy Division,
Guru Guru,
Peter and Kerry,
Barbara Tucker,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Massinfluence,
The Angels of Light,
Metal Thangz,
Rhythm & Sound,
Public Enemy,
Godley & Creme,
Cecil Taylor,
Ice-T,
the Normal,
Zapp,
Byron Stingily,
Howard Jones,
Babytalk,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marc Almond,
Letta Mbulu,
Interpol,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Hoover,
Eric Dolphy,
The Birthday Party,
The Black Dice,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Smoke,
Pierre Henry,
John Cale,
Technova,
Sandy B,
Fluxion,
Mars,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scott Walker,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scientists,
Donald Byrd,
X-Ray Spex,
Ken Boothe,
Monks,
Absolute Body Control,
48th St. Collective,
The Young Rascals,
Pole,
Sparks,
Carl Craig,
Magazine,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Johnny Clarke,
Con Funk Shun,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.