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 Georgia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dorothy Ashby to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
AZ,
Newcleus,
The Monks,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Doors,
The Litter,
Neu!,
the Swans,
Ossler,
Kas Product,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Heaven 17,
Popol Vuh,
The Names,
Shuggie Otis,
Maleditus Sound,
Bobby Byrd,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultravox,
Derrick May,
Can,
Rosa Yemen,
Wasted Youth,
Suburban Knight,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grandmaster Flash,
Massinfluence,
PIL,
The Motions,
Minnie Riperton,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
New York Dolls,
Oneida,
Soft Cell,
Rakim,
The Walker Brothers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Harry Pussy,
Y Pants,
Rhythm & Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Unwound,
the Slits,
Dual Sessions,
Danielle Patucci,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Funkadelic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
David Bowie,
Lalann,
Cheater Slicks,
Jacob Miller,
Boredoms,
Model 500,
The Happenings,
Iggy Pop,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.