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 El Salvador and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mr. Review to the dance 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Judy Mowatt,
Pierre Henry,
K-Klass,
Bronski Beat,
Blancmange,
Gastr Del Sol,
Severed Heads,
ABC,
Chris Corsano,
UT,
Fad Gadget,
Lungfish,
Deepchord,
Theoretical Girls,
Wings,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Stereo Dub,
Howard Jones,
Janne Schatter,
LL Cool J,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Cymande,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Graham Central Station,
Colin Newman,
Morten Harket,
The Star Department,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Smiths,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Godley & Creme,
Camouflage,
Dual Sessions,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
X-101,
The Standells,
Chrome,
Brick,
the Slits,
Reagan Youth,
Loose Ends,
MC5,
Archie Shepp,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Derrick May,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Don Cherry,
Ituana,
Das Ding,
The Dirtbombs,
Simply Red,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Association,
Gil Scott Heron,
Moebius,
Soft Machine,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.