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 Belize and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba 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 Ornette Coleman to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ultra Naté,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brick,
Mad Mike,
a-ha,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sun Ra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The United States of America,
Echospace,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fall,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Section 25,
Janne Schatter,
Marc Almond,
L. Decosne,
Jandek,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jeff Mills,
the Association,
Dawn Penn,
Charles Mingus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jacob Miller,
This Heat,
Ossler,
D'Angelo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Procol Harum,
The Gories,
Crash Course in Science,
Groovy Waters,
Avey Tare,
Whodini,
One Last Wish,
X-101,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Scott Walker,
Traffic Nightmare,
Television,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kas Product,
Rapeman,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
Ronnie Foster,
Fear,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Franke,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang Starr,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.