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 Qatar and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Remains to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Germs,
These Immortal Souls,
The Music Machine,
Moss Icon,
Kurtis Blow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Television,
X-Ray Spex,
The Kinks,
Basic Channel,
Bad Manners,
Bootsy Collins,
Big Daddy Kane,
Blossom Toes,
Skaos,
kango's stein massive,
Crime,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joey Negro,
Piero Umiliani,
Max Romeo,
the Bar-Kays,
Lucky Dragons,
Ituana,
Man Eating Sloth,
Suburban Knight,
Ken Boothe,
Man Parrish,
The Move,
The Count Five,
Con Funk Shun,
Aural Exciters,
The Skatalites,
Kerri Chandler,
The Barracudas,
Rufus Thomas,
Goldenarms,
Rekid,
The Electric Prunes,
Unrelated Segments,
Lyres,
Tim Buckley,
Derrick Morgan,
The Index,
Derrick May,
Lungfish,
Bang On A Can,
Soft Machine,
The Monks,
Chrome,
Siglo XX,
Jacob Miller,
Pere Ubu,
New Age Steppers,
Ten City,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott Heron,
Monks,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.