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 Morocco and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord 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 Mars to the grime 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Sonic Youth,
Nils Olav,
Joy Division,
Pulsallama,
Roxy Music,
Roxette,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Faraquet,
The Angels of Light,
Ken Boothe,
Ornette Coleman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Negative Approach,
Porter Ricks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Alice Coltrane,
Public Enemy,
Eric Copeland,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rapeman,
Bill Wells,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lucky Dragons,
Glenn Branca,
John Foxx,
Soft Cell,
MC5,
Aloha Tigers,
Joe Finger,
Infiniti,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Reuben Wilson,
The Happenings,
E-Dancer,
Section 25,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marvin Gaye,
Popol Vuh,
John Cale,
Mars,
The Smiths,
Gong,
The United States of America,
Basic Channel,
Mr. Review,
Robert Görl,
Newcleus,
Camouflage,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fela Kuti,
Neil Young,
Brand Nubian,
Cymande,
Donald Byrd,
The Red Krayola,
Maurizio,
Matthew Bourne,
The Residents,
The Modern Lovers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.