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 Ireland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Wasted Youth to the jazz 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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
The Neon Judgement,
F. McDonald,
Dual Sessions,
Graham Central Station,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cal Tjader,
Eyeless In Gaza,
H. Thieme,
48th St. Collective,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lucky Dragons,
Glenn Branca,
Lungfish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Neu!,
Gang Green,
The Fire Engines,
Nick Fraelich,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
DJ Style,
Whodini,
Pere Ubu,
Skriet,
Big Daddy Kane,
T.S.O.L.,
Hasil Adkins,
The Stooges,
Marcia Griffiths,
Von Mondo,
Mark Hollis,
In Retrospect,
Isaac Hayes,
Rapeman,
The Sound,
The Dead C,
the Swans,
Monolake,
Kurtis Blow,
Minny Pops,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ten City,
DJ Sneak,
This Heat,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Guru Guru,
Tres Demented,
Groovy Waters,
Ituana,
New Age Steppers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Malaria!,
Theoretical Girls,
Gong,
Judy Mowatt,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Soft Cell,
Goldenarms,
The Vogues,
Tropical Tobacco,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.