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 Suriname and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Moby Grape to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Fatback Band,
Jandek,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Piero Umiliani,
The Residents,
Jacob Miller,
Outsiders,
The Five Americans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Liliput,
Rod Modell,
Ralphi Rosario,
Flash Fearless,
Gichy Dan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Masters at Work,
Minutemen,
Circle Jerks,
Aural Exciters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
These Immortal Souls,
Alison Limerick,
Alice Coltrane,
Saccharine Trust,
The Birthday Party,
DNA,
Joe Finger,
the Human League,
The Beau Brummels,
Ice-T,
MC5,
The Divine Comedy,
Young Marble Giants,
Symarip,
Jawbox,
The Techniques,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
FM Einheit,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sandy B,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Skatalites,
Sam Rivers,
Gang Green,
F. McDonald,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Martian,
Skaos,
Ultra Naté,
Ronnie Foster,
Bad Manners,
Bang On A Can,
Peter & Gordon,
Joey Negro,
Mo-Dettes,
Vainqueur,
Althea and Donna,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.