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 Marshall Islands and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Yellowson 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
June Days,
Brick,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Eve St. Jones,
The Index,
Simply Red,
The American Breed,
Loose Ends,
The Moleskins,
Kerri Chandler,
Liliput,
Ponytail,
Donald Byrd,
These Immortal Souls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pierre Henry,
Warren Ellis,
Livin' Joy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dead Boys,
Talk Talk,
Neil Young,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Subhumans,
T.S.O.L.,
Schoolly D,
Jeff Mills,
The Tremeloes,
Andrew Hill,
Slick Rick,
Dark Day,
Angry Samoans,
Depeche Mode,
the Bar-Kays,
Avey Tare,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joy Division,
Jandek,
X-Ray Spex,
Suicide,
Tom Boy,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Divine Comedy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Radio Birdman,
Wasted Youth,
the Slits,
Thee Headcoats,
Peter and Kerry,
The Black Dice,
Althea and Donna,
London Community Gospel Choir,
EPMD,
Alphaville,
X-101,
Gong,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.