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 Dominican Republic and from Philadelphia.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 Chocolate Watch Band to the jazz 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
D'Angelo,
The Slits,
The Vogues,
Cluster,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Adolescents,
Camberwell Now,
Sight & Sound,
Parry Music,
Procol Harum,
Cymande,
Flipper,
Derrick Morgan,
Robert Görl,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Shoche,
Zero Boys,
Aloha Tigers,
Franke,
Aaron Thompson,
Los Fastidios,
The Evens,
Swans,
CMW,
Grauzone,
Thompson Twins,
Eve St. Jones,
Mandrill,
Barry Ungar,
Organ,
Index,
Tommy Roe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ralphi Rosario,
Funky Four + One,
10cc,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Drive Like Jehu,
Popol Vuh,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gang Green,
Alison Limerick,
Don Cherry,
Roxette,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Metal Thangz,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Searchers,
Bluetip,
Jeru the Damaja,
Swell Maps,
Alphaville,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crime,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Grass Roots,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.