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 Libya and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro 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 Mars to the disco 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Black Flag,
Nils Olav,
Marine Girls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Residents,
The Trojans,
Absolute Body Control,
Gregory Isaacs,
Liliput,
The Young Rascals,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Andrew Hill,
Ice-T,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Offenders,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rites of Spring,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lower 48,
The Evens,
Y Pants,
Average White Band,
Jawbox,
The Fall,
Reuben Wilson,
Nas,
Suburban Knight,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arab on Radar,
Boogie Down Productions,
Soul Sonic Force,
Icehouse,
One Last Wish,
Nik Kershaw,
Alison Limerick,
Hashim,
Ralphi Rosario,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Yaz,
Sexual Harrassment,
Patti Smith,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
ABBA,
The Skatalites,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Michelle Simonal,
Ken Boothe,
Sonic Youth,
The Zeros,
Bootsy Collins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Oneida,
Sun City Girls,
Franke,
Urselle,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Pretty Things,
Ornette Coleman,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.