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 Turkey and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Babytalk to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Victims,
The Birthday Party,
Nico,
Black Bananas,
Brothers Johnson,
Nas,
Barry Ungar,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pole,
Simply Red,
Nik Kershaw,
Aloha Tigers,
Wasted Youth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Thee Headcoats,
Soft Cell,
Harpers Bizarre,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gil Scott Heron,
Franke,
The Knickerbockers,
The Golliwogs,
Grey Daturas,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rufus Thomas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sound Behaviour,
Max Romeo,
Terry Callier,
Nils Olav,
The Dirtbombs,
Vladislav Delay,
Eurythmics,
Suburban Knight,
Deepchord,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scratch Acid,
Funky Four + One,
Porter Ricks,
Hardrive,
June Days,
Public Enemy,
Y Pants,
Johnny Osbourne,
Stereo Dub,
Scrapy,
Rapeman,
Radiohead,
David Bowie,
Heaven 17,
John Holt,
The Martian,
Von Mondo,
Desert Stars,
Wally Richardson,
Kaleidoscope,
Organ,
The Angels of Light,
Bill Wells,
Con Funk Shun,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.