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 Samoa and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soul II Soul to the crunk 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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Joe Finger,
Hasil Adkins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pet Shop Boys,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erasure,
Barrington Levy,
The Associates,
Mr. Review,
Cal Tjader,
Boredoms,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rites of Spring,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mojo Men,
John Holt,
Ronan,
Skriet,
Wally Richardson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Main Source,
Ornette Coleman,
Panda Bear,
Section 25,
The Fire Engines,
The Walker Brothers,
The Cowsills,
Robert Hood,
Delon & Dalcan,
Colin Newman,
Althea and Donna,
Archie Shepp,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Erykah Badu,
Khruangbin,
F. McDonald,
Interpol,
Spoonie Gee,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blake Baxter,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mad Mike,
The Wake,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jeff Mills,
Gang Gang Dance,
Simply Red,
Johnny Clarke,
Pussy Galore,
Pulsallama,
Essential Logic,
kango's stein massive,
Tomorrow,
Lungfish,
Deadbeat,
The Offenders,
The Monochrome Set,
Brass Construction,
Oneida,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Doors,
Soul II Soul,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.