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 Serbia and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Star Department to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
The Move,
World's Most,
Lungfish,
Harry Pussy,
Joyce Sims,
Camberwell Now,
The Martian,
The Slackers,
Kerri Chandler,
Funky Four + One,
Pharoah Sanders,
MC5,
Fad Gadget,
Minny Pops,
Robert Wyatt,
Roger Hodgson,
Pere Ubu,
Ossler,
Spandau Ballet,
Swans,
Black Flag,
T. Rex,
Davy DMX,
In Retrospect,
Eden Ahbez,
the Bar-Kays,
Nik Kershaw,
Wire,
Blancmange,
Von Mondo,
Saccharine Trust,
Eddi Front,
The Moody Blues,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
The Sonics,
Stereo Dub,
Joe Finger,
The Invisible,
kango's stein massive,
Idris Muhammad,
Underground Resistance,
Tim Buckley,
Ultravox,
Warren Ellis,
CMW,
Royal Trux,
Don Cherry,
Magazine,
Glambeats Corp.,
Magma,
The Monks,
B.T. Express,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Litter,
Aaron Thompson,
Pantaleimon,
John Coltrane,
Chris Corsano,
The Cramps,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.