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 Luxembourg and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar 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 The Invisible to the rap 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
T. Rex,
Negative Approach,
Massinfluence,
Tres Demented,
Television,
Eli Mardock,
The Knickerbockers,
The Last Poets,
Lalann,
Eric Copeland,
Ornette Coleman,
Iggy Pop,
Nico,
Hasil Adkins,
The Smiths,
Johnny Clarke,
Kaleidoscope,
R.M.O.,
Interpol,
Max Romeo,
Altered Images,
The Smoke,
Nick Fraelich,
Man Parrish,
Rod Modell,
Zero Boys,
Black Moon,
Groovy Waters,
Television Personalities,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tomorrow,
Niagra,
Black Flag,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marmalade,
Pussy Galore,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eve St. Jones,
Eddi Front,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Sound,
Flipper,
The Grass Roots,
The Blues Magoos,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Oneida,
Gang Gang Dance,
Visage,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Victims,
The Star Department,
Lightning Bolt,
MDC,
Delta 5,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric B and Rakim,
Intrusion,
Rufus Thomas,
Ronnie Foster,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.