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 East Timor and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic to the grime 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Bill Wells,
Jacob Miller,
Gichy Dan,
Connie Case,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Section 25,
the Soft Cell,
LL Cool J,
Davy DMX,
Fifty Foot Hose,
MC5,
Rotary Connection,
The Vogues,
Mr. Review,
Joe Smooth,
The Gladiators,
The Smiths,
Marvin Gaye,
The Zeros,
Sister Nancy,
Maurizio,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Slits,
The Mummies,
Urselle,
Marshall Jefferson,
Blake Baxter,
Kerri Chandler,
Pulsallama,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cluster,
Bauhaus,
Outsiders,
Thee Headcoats,
Clear Light,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lee Hazlewood,
Harry Pussy,
Skaos,
Aloha Tigers,
Judy Mowatt,
Chris & Cosey,
Derrick Morgan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gil Scott Heron,
Zapp,
Kenny Larkin,
Japan,
Nils Olav,
Robert Wyatt,
Eve St. Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Doobie Brothers,
June Days,
Alison Limerick,
Kas Product,
Cal Tjader,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roxy Music,
Niagra,
Skriet,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.