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 Burkina and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Terry Callier to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet 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 güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
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,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
X-102,
Pantaleimon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scrapy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Excepter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stetsasonic,
Japan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Foxx,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Byrd,
Robert Wyatt,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Grass Roots,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Yaz,
Man Parrish,
The Five Americans,
Subhumans,
the Normal,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kerrie Biddell,
X-Ray Spex,
Wasted Youth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Spoonie Gee,
Panda Bear,
Magma,
Lou Reed,
Skarface,
Banda Bassotti,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Tremeloes,
the Germs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Model 500,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marmalade,
Terry Callier,
Morten Harket,
Agitation Free,
Joy Division,
Blake Baxter,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kool Moe Dee,
Radiopuhelimet,
UT,
Suicide,
A Certain Ratio,
Underground Resistance,
Procol Harum,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Blossom Toes,
Sister Nancy,
Eden Ahbez,
One Last Wish,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.