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 Montenegro and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Paris.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Procol Harum,
Wolf Eyes,
Cymande,
Funky Four + One,
Sarah Menescal,
ABBA,
Sun Ra,
Joensuu 1685,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Funkadelic,
Fugazi,
Dave Gahan,
Danielle Patucci,
Bill Wells,
Sam Rivers,
Jeff Mills,
Nirvana,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Techniques,
Oblivians,
Susan Cadogan,
Morten Harket,
Los Fastidios,
Arab on Radar,
Altered Images,
Jesper Dahlback,
James White and The Blacks,
Schoolly D,
Parry Music,
Aaron Thompson,
The Grass Roots,
Glenn Branca,
Steve Hackett,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pagans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Derrick Morgan,
Severed Heads,
Reuben Wilson,
Echospace,
Juan Atkins,
Wire,
The Last Poets,
Janne Schatter,
Girls At Our Best!,
Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare,
UT,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scientists,
Pylon,
Flash Fearless,
Thee Headcoats,
Joe Smooth,
Yazoo,
Symarip,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Desert Stars,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.