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 United States and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Severed Heads to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Zero Boys,
The Detroit Cobras,
Yellowson,
48th St. Collective,
Intrusion,
Sonic Youth,
Pantaleimon,
Anthony Braxton,
Tubeway Army,
Fela Kuti,
Soulsonic Force,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultravox,
Aaron Thompson,
Wasted Youth,
AZ,
Stereo Dub,
L. Decosne,
The Evens,
Nick Fraelich,
New York Dolls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lou Christie,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Archie Shepp,
Jeff Mills,
Trumans Water,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Niagra,
Man Parrish,
The Residents,
Warren Ellis,
Drexciya,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Freddie Wadling,
The Trojans,
Ludus,
This Heat,
The Five Americans,
Motorama,
The Fall,
Au Pairs,
Tom Boy,
The Real Kids,
DNA,
Blake Baxter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mandrill,
Audionom,
Qualms,
Dark Day,
Kayak,
Eric B and Rakim,
Circle Jerks,
The Cure,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Erasure,
Sun City Girls,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.