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 Kiribati and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ 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 Brick to the jazz 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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Quadrant,
DNA,
Sandy B,
The Martian,
Davy DMX,
The Blues Magoos,
Donny Hathaway,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Stooges,
Dawn Penn,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Trumans Water,
Mary Jane Girls,
David Axelrod,
Babytalk,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Isaac Hayes,
Warsaw,
Royal Trux,
X-Ray Spex,
Sun City Girls,
The Dead C,
Von Mondo,
Stereo Dub,
Agitation Free,
Schoolly D,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Alison Limerick,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Danielle Patucci,
Camouflage,
Excepter,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Pus,
Crooked Eye,
Rakim,
New Age Steppers,
Livin' Joy,
Ronan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bob Dylan,
The Moleskins,
Hasil Adkins,
Sarah Menescal,
Throbbing Gristle,
Malaria!,
Nik Kershaw,
The Tremeloes,
China Crisis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Q65,
Anthony Braxton,
Neil Young,
Eurythmics,
Todd Terry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gang Green,
Skriet,
Joyce Sims,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pantaleimon,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.