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 Venezuela and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 rhodes 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 Circle Jerks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '80s 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 The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
A Certain Ratio,
Procol Harum,
The Electric Prunes,
Harry Pussy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Soft Machine,
KRS-One,
Pole,
Camouflage,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Q65,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minutemen,
The Fortunes,
the Sonics,
Sixth Finger,
Toni Rubio,
Rod Modell,
The Last Poets,
Davy DMX,
Bob Dylan,
Crispian St. Peters,
New Age Steppers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tears for Fears,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Soft Cell,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Prince Buster,
Buzzcocks,
New Order,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deepchord,
Matthew Halsall,
Skarface,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mo-Dettes,
Ohio Players,
Terry Callier,
Joensuu 1685,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Grauzone,
Brand Nubian,
Qualms,
Blake Baxter,
Juan Atkins,
Unwound,
The Sonics,
Archie Shepp,
Sparks,
Gong,
Make Up,
48th St. Collective,
Essential Logic,
John Holt,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.