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 Peru and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fire Engines,
Heaven 17,
Talk Talk,
The Neon Judgement,
David McCallum,
T. Rex,
Q and Not U,
Blancmange,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bob Dylan,
48th St. Collective,
Young Marble Giants,
The Raincoats,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Barry Ungar,
Wasted Youth,
The Walker Brothers,
Minor Threat,
The Black Dice,
John Lydon,
MDC,
Liliput,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Busters,
Roxette,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gang Starr,
Gichy Dan,
Ice-T,
Graham Central Station,
Derrick Morgan,
The Buckinghams,
Wally Richardson,
Patti Smith,
The Wake,
Glambeats Corp.,
Peter & Gordon,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Morten Harket,
Ten City,
Stetsasonic,
Absolute Body Control,
Cymande,
New Order,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Associates,
kango's stein massive,
Moebius,
Second Layer,
Eve St. Jones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Anthony Braxton,
Drexciya,
Mad Mike,
Soul II Soul,
Moby Grape,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.