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 Hungary and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fugazi to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Quando Quango,
Glambeats Corp.,
Parry Music,
Maleditus Sound,
Excepter,
Outsiders,
Quantec,
Electric Prunes,
Japan,
Man Eating Sloth,
U.S. Maple,
Procol Harum,
Marc Almond,
The Gladiators,
Intrusion,
Zero Boys,
Lalann,
Moby Grape,
Rufus Thomas,
Theoretical Girls,
The Techniques,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mr. Review,
Colin Newman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Neon Judgement,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gabor Szabo,
Los Fastidios,
Hot Snakes,
Stiv Bators,
Rotary Connection,
F. McDonald,
Heaven 17,
Anthony Braxton,
Scan 7,
Nas,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
ABC,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
T.S.O.L.,
This Heat,
The Misunderstood,
Skaos,
Patti Smith,
The Sonics,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Smoke,
Fluxion,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Graham Central Station,
Desert Stars,
Visage,
Minnie Riperton,
Goldenarms,
Malaria!,
Amazonics,
A Certain Ratio,
The Slits,
Sex Pistols,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.