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 Moldova and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the grime 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dennis Brown,
Urselle,
Bush Tetras,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jacques Brel,
These Immortal Souls,
Von Mondo,
Isaac Hayes,
Make Up,
The Fugs,
The Last Poets,
Swell Maps,
Lindisfarne,
Inner City,
Scan 7,
Main Source,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Black Moon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Y Pants,
the Sonics,
The Modern Lovers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Moleskins,
Thompson Twins,
Bizarre Inc.,
New Age Steppers,
Niagra,
Alison Limerick,
The Neon Judgement,
Duran Duran,
Rufus Thomas,
The Five Americans,
Pussy Galore,
The Litter,
Chris & Cosey,
Tomorrow,
Jandek,
Section 25,
The Martian,
Crime,
The Doors,
Suburban Knight,
The Real Kids,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ultravox,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dawn Penn,
Average White Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Donny Hathaway,
Little Man,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Metal Thangz,
Angry Samoans,
the Slits,
Drexciya,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.