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 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare 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 Freddie Wadling to the funk 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Max Romeo,
Al Stewart,
The J.B.'s,
Outsiders,
Livin' Joy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joe Smooth,
The Knickerbockers,
The New Christs,
Hardrive,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Althea and Donna,
Lee Hazlewood,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Smoke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Junior Murvin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ludus,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Urselle,
Juan Atkins,
Sonny Sharrock,
Little Man,
Bootsy Collins,
Sonic Youth,
Steve Hackett,
Sparks,
Sound Behaviour,
Marvin Gaye,
The Barracudas,
Colin Newman,
Chrome,
Crooked Eye,
The Martian,
Stiv Bators,
Procol Harum,
Alison Limerick,
Gastr Del Sol,
Iggy Pop,
Deepchord,
the Normal,
Camouflage,
Cybotron,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Donald Byrd,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ten City,
Joy Division,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Johnny Clarke,
The Mojo Men,
Agent Orange,
Derrick May,
The Sound,
AZ,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Slits,
Gang Green,
The Doors,
Eddi Front,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.