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 Azerbaijan and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Crispy Ambulance to the grunge 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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Pulsallama,
X-Ray Spex,
Derrick May,
The Wake,
Marine Girls,
Ice-T,
The Gun Club,
Fela Kuti,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mo-Dettes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scratch Acid,
Bill Near,
Dual Sessions,
Monks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cowsills,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Bar-Kays,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Dirtbombs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Drexciya,
Tears for Fears,
The Index,
Royal Trux,
Moss Icon,
Donny Hathaway,
Eden Ahbez,
Kayak,
Big Daddy Kane,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Peter and Kerry,
Vladislav Delay,
Robert Görl,
Aloha Tigers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Stooges,
Darondo,
Marvin Gaye,
Jandek,
Hasil Adkins,
The Invisible,
The Red Krayola,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deepchord,
Rod Modell,
the Slits,
The New Christs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lightning Bolt,
Basic Channel,
48th St. Collective,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fugazi,
Roy Ayers,
Marmalade,
Buzzcocks,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.