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 Portugal and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
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 güiro 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 Slave to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
the Slits,
The Standells,
Bizarre Inc.,
Alton Ellis,
Siglo XX,
Jesper Dahlback,
Crash Course in Science,
Anthony Braxton,
Lakeside,
The Pretty Things,
Stetsasonic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Main Source,
The Cure,
Deakin,
Albert Ayler,
the Germs,
The Gun Club,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Pus,
Mantronix,
Babytalk,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Normal,
Los Fastidios,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Byrd,
Aloha Tigers,
The Raincoats,
The Sound,
Mars,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dirtbombs,
The Tremeloes,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Wake,
Amazonics,
Youth Brigade,
The Monochrome Set,
Lyres,
Soulsonic Force,
Bang On A Can,
Moby Grape,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Reuben Wilson,
The Knickerbockers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Searchers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Schoolly D,
The American Breed,
Wolf Eyes,
This Heat,
Eli Mardock,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Magazine,
Mad Mike,
The Electric Prunes,
Technova,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Sonics,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.