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 Kuwait and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Toronto.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Brass Construction to the crunk 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
The Fortunes,
David McCallum,
Isaac Hayes,
Scion,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Duran Duran,
The Associates,
Little Man,
Can,
Thompson Twins,
The Names,
Dual Sessions,
Tommy Roe,
The Techniques,
Royal Trux,
Pulsallama,
Trumans Water,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Das Ding,
Eddi Front,
Fat Boys,
Idris Muhammad,
the Swans,
Slick Rick,
The Invisible,
The Doobie Brothers,
Spandau Ballet,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cure,
The Victims,
The Black Dice,
Sonic Youth,
Depeche Mode,
Laurel Aitken,
The Blues Magoos,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eli Mardock,
Rufus Thomas,
Tom Boy,
The Move,
The Angels of Light,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Sound,
MC5,
kango's stein massive,
Frankie Knuckles,
Radiohead,
Jacques Brel,
Flipper,
The Velvet Underground,
Pylon,
Letta Mbulu,
The Doors,
PIL,
Soul II Soul,
Skriet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nirvana,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.