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 Canada and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grunge 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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Loose Ends,
The Tremeloes,
Ludus,
Clear Light,
Davy DMX,
Erasure,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
One Last Wish,
Con Funk Shun,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Searchers,
Unrelated Segments,
Moby Grape,
Intrusion,
This Heat,
Tubeway Army,
Soul II Soul,
Amazonics,
Maurizio,
Das Ding,
Henry Cow,
The Index,
Animal Collective,
Wasted Youth,
These Immortal Souls,
The Red Krayola,
Aloha Tigers,
Q65,
The Young Rascals,
Public Image Ltd.,
Roxette,
Main Source,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Skaos,
Boz Scaggs,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Remains,
Ronan,
Pierre Henry,
Los Fastidios,
David Axelrod,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
La Düsseldorf,
Vladislav Delay,
Idris Muhammad,
Basic Channel,
Nirvana,
The Mojo Men,
Jacques Brel,
Harmonia,
the Human League,
Q and Not U,
The Blues Magoos,
Derrick May,
Sound Behaviour,
Rotary Connection,
The Fall,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.