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 Panama and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Avey Tare to the jazz 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Underground Resistance,
Section 25,
The Pretty Things,
June Days,
Yusef Lateef,
Drexciya,
Idris Muhammad,
MDC,
Basic Channel,
The Music Machine,
The Blues Magoos,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bush Tetras,
DNA,
Dead Boys,
The Victims,
cv313,
Grandmaster Flash,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stetsasonic,
Rotary Connection,
Warsaw,
The Fire Engines,
The United States of America,
Quadrant,
Sex Pistols,
B.T. Express,
Duran Duran,
the Fania All-Stars,
Average White Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Fear,
The New Christs,
Charles Mingus,
Toni Rubio,
Pere Ubu,
Scientists,
Popol Vuh,
Minor Threat,
The Gladiators,
Don Cherry,
Easy Going,
Ponytail,
Kenny Larkin,
Sun Ra,
Juan Atkins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cal Tjader,
Jesper Dahlback,
Monolake,
Stereo Dub,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Mighty Diamonds,
PIL,
Grauzone,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultravox,
Soul II Soul,
Goldenarms,
Harmonia,
Von Mondo,
Rapeman,
Patti Smith,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.