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 Malaysia and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Index to the grime 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Dennis Brown,
Rufus Thomas,
Danielle Patucci,
Absolute Body Control,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Swans,
Marine Girls,
Accadde A,
The Black Dice,
Intrusion,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Glenn Branca,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pole,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Newcleus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Au Pairs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ituana,
Gong,
The Birthday Party,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Electric Prunes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eurythmics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Urselle,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Index,
Dead Boys,
Sun Ra,
Sex Pistols,
Fugazi,
The Dave Clark Five,
Heaven 17,
James White and The Blacks,
Fat Boys,
Mr. Review,
The Offenders,
Morten Harket,
Whodini,
Das Ding,
Babytalk,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Make Up,
Grauzone,
Tropical Tobacco,
Aswad,
Cluster,
Porter Ricks,
Drexciya,
New Age Steppers,
Junior Murvin,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Monks,
Quantec,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.