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 San Marino 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Max Romeo to the rap 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Joensuu 1685,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Prince Buster,
Quadrant,
Harry Pussy,
Archie Shepp,
DNA,
The Gap Band,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Womack,
Derrick Morgan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Robert Hood,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Christie,
Blake Baxter,
Yazoo,
Sex Pistols,
Piero Umiliani,
Oneida,
the Slits,
Sun City Girls,
Adolescents,
The Cowsills,
Andrew Hill,
Arab on Radar,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Fania All-Stars,
Country Teasers,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Dead C,
Camberwell Now,
Das Ding,
Jeff Mills,
Sonic Youth,
CMW,
Public Enemy,
Kurtis Blow,
Banda Bassotti,
Fatback Band,
The Mojo Men,
Funky Four + One,
Maleditus Sound,
Robert Görl,
Eden Ahbez,
The Remains,
Jandek,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Mummies,
Warren Ellis,
Popol Vuh,
Cluster,
Urselle,
Chrome,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Brothers Johnson,
The Blackbyrds,
The American Breed,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.