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 San Marino and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum 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 Sexual Harrassment to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Buzzcocks,
Deadbeat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Bar-Kays,
Yazoo,
Little Man,
Lyres,
Rotary Connection,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fatback Band,
The Slackers,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Green,
The Neon Judgement,
ABC,
Crash Course in Science,
Juan Atkins,
The Busters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scan 7,
Banda Bassotti,
Qualms,
Heaven 17,
Television Personalities,
Man Parrish,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Stiv Bators,
KRS-One,
Minutemen,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Letta Mbulu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Barracudas,
Amazonics,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Modern Lovers,
Can,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Gories,
Kerri Chandler,
Marvin Gaye,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
David Axelrod,
Tubeway Army,
The Gap Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Anakelly,
Surgeon,
Moby Grape,
The Litter,
Masters at Work,
Pantytec,
Todd Rundgren,
Minny Pops,
Hoover,
Gang Gang Dance,
Reuben Wilson,
Maleditus Sound,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.