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 Comoros and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nirvana to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Spandau Ballet,
The Angels of Light,
Boredoms,
This Heat,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Move,
Television,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Groovy Waters,
Mars,
Clear Light,
Duran Duran,
Sugar Minott,
Arcadia,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fat Boys,
Depeche Mode,
Can,
The J.B.'s,
Maleditus Sound,
Inner City,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Busters,
Theoretical Girls,
Fatback Band,
Hardrive,
Gerry Rafferty,
David Bowie,
The Beau Brummels,
Pet Shop Boys,
Echospace,
Make Up,
La Düsseldorf,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barry Ungar,
Scratch Acid,
Trumans Water,
Yusef Lateef,
Rhythm & Sound,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Arthur Verocai,
EPMD,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Blues Magoos,
The Victims,
Dave Gahan,
Donny Hathaway,
The Durutti Column,
Donald Byrd,
DJ Style,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bad Manners,
Idris Muhammad,
Peter & Gordon,
Harry Pussy,
Crooked Eye,
Camberwell Now,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.