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 Tunisia and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe 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 John Cale to the funk 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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Magma,
Sixth Finger,
Ice-T,
Nas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Fall,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eden Ahbez,
Wire,
Agent Orange,
F. McDonald,
Liliput,
Ultra Naté,
Rod Modell,
Ultravox,
Unwound,
R.M.O.,
Surgeon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Busters,
Simply Red,
Ponytail,
The Raincoats,
Bauhaus,
Popol Vuh,
Tim Buckley,
Glenn Branca,
Shoche,
Pere Ubu,
The Buckinghams,
Dorothy Ashby,
Franke,
Blake Baxter,
Loose Ends,
Section 25,
Blancmange,
UT,
Soft Machine,
The Golliwogs,
Deepchord,
The Remains,
Deadbeat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grauzone,
The Red Krayola,
Public Image Ltd.,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Drexciya,
Amon Düül II,
Delta 5,
Traffic Nightmare,
Infiniti,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Malaria!,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.