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 Sweden 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 10cc to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Adolescents,
Eve St. Jones,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Au Pairs,
The Fortunes,
Das Ding,
Michelle Simonal,
Maleditus Sound,
F. McDonald,
the Bar-Kays,
Suburban Knight,
The Raincoats,
The American Breed,
Andrew Hill,
Charles Mingus,
The Searchers,
Banda Bassotti,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Kinks,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Mojo Men,
Joyce Sims,
The Move,
Slick Rick,
Marcia Griffiths,
Massinfluence,
Al Stewart,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fugazi,
David McCallum,
Goldenarms,
Yellowson,
The Gladiators,
Patti Smith,
The Black Dice,
Section 25,
Quando Quango,
Davy DMX,
ABBA,
Oneida,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dual Sessions,
Porter Ricks,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Angry Samoans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Zapp,
The Gories,
Monks,
the Normal,
Robert Wyatt,
Tubeway Army,
Gong,
The Shadows of Knight,
Archie Shepp,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.