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 Kyrgyzstan and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Piero Umiliani to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Minutemen,
X-Ray Spex,
Soul II Soul,
The Last Poets,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Searchers,
Pulsallama,
Don Cherry,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Buckinghams,
Dorothy Ashby,
Terrestrial Tones,
Organ,
Yusef Lateef,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Selecter,
Underground Resistance,
Ossler,
Yaz,
The Blues Magoos,
Sun City Girls,
Josef K,
Warsaw,
Sun Ra,
Sonic Youth,
Janne Schatter,
Los Fastidios,
Pylon,
Vladislav Delay,
Eric Dolphy,
Marmalade,
Infiniti,
Reuben Wilson,
U.S. Maple,
Mr. Review,
Radiohead,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Knickerbockers,
Eve St. Jones,
Circle Jerks,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Litter,
China Crisis,
The Mojo Men,
Goldenarms,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Durutti Column,
Zapp,
Althea and Donna,
The Golliwogs,
La Düsseldorf,
Sällskapet,
Boogie Down Productions,
Quadrant,
Wings,
Oblivians,
Scion,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Count Five,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.