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 Mexico and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nation of Ulysses 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Birthday Party,
June of 44,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun City Girls,
Tres Demented,
Stiv Bators,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Flipper,
The Fuzztones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cecil Taylor,
The Mojo Men,
the Bar-Kays,
Scion,
Jeff Lynne,
Half Japanese,
Bang On A Can,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Victims,
Aaron Thompson,
Nico,
Neil Young,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eric Copeland,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Moss Icon,
Pantaleimon,
DJ Style,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dave Gahan,
Derrick May,
Bronski Beat,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Can,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dead Boys,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mr. Review,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bill Near,
Au Pairs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Goldenarms,
Pere Ubu,
The Shadows of Knight,
DJ Sneak,
Frankie Knuckles,
B.T. Express,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Circle Jerks,
Crooked Eye,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Barry Ungar,
K-Klass,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.