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 Azerbaijan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Paris.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 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 clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Joe Finger,
Ornette Coleman,
Delta 5,
Scratch Acid,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Neu!,
Gang of Four,
The Offenders,
Depeche Mode,
Visage,
X-101,
Rufus Thomas,
Jacob Miller,
The Happenings,
Wally Richardson,
Godley & Creme,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Funky Four + One,
the Germs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Zapp,
Grey Daturas,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Todd Terry,
Jeff Mills,
Brass Construction,
Radiopuhelimet,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
LL Cool J,
Fluxion,
Rekid,
Tres Demented,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Trumans Water,
John Coltrane,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tears for Fears,
Minor Threat,
Japan,
Ultravox,
Young Marble Giants,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Camouflage,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Martian,
Barrington Levy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
a-ha,
The Associates,
Sandy B,
Essential Logic,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eric B and Rakim,
Glenn Branca,
Reagan Youth,
The Neon Judgement,
Stereo Dub,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.