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 Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum 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 U.S. Maple to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
H. Thieme,
Bill Wells,
Nik Kershaw,
Man Parrish,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crash Course in Science,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sun Ra,
Scientists,
Aswad,
Albert Ayler,
Theoretical Girls,
New Order,
ABBA,
Tubeway Army,
Bang On A Can,
Terry Callier,
The Durutti Column,
A Certain Ratio,
Glenn Branca,
Robert Hood,
Black Sheep,
Liliput,
Crooked Eye,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scan 7,
The Dirtbombs,
Swell Maps,
The Velvet Underground,
Talk Talk,
Deadbeat,
Donald Byrd,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eddi Front,
K-Klass,
Ornette Coleman,
Half Japanese,
The Misunderstood,
Model 500,
Main Source,
The Victims,
Nirvana,
Fat Boys,
Cybotron,
Lungfish,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Knickerbockers,
The Vogues,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fugs,
The Red Krayola,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Evens,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Chris & Cosey,
Roger Hodgson,
Country Teasers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.