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 the UAE and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin 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 Byron Stingily to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Amazonics,
Surgeon,
Hashim,
The Gap Band,
Stiv Bators,
Monks,
Bush Tetras,
Piero Umiliani,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Move,
This Heat,
The Busters,
Bauhaus,
Funkadelic,
Flipper,
Jacob Miller,
T. Rex,
the Normal,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Harry Pussy,
Mark Hollis,
Sällskapet,
Marvin Gaye,
Boz Scaggs,
Ice-T,
Rufus Thomas,
Porter Ricks,
Pulsallama,
Sight & Sound,
Section 25,
Maleditus Sound,
Barbara Tucker,
Boredoms,
Camouflage,
Eric B and Rakim,
World's Most,
Pet Shop Boys,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Slits,
Sunsets and Hearts,
One Last Wish,
Skaos,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Grey Daturas,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Vainqueur,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Sound,
Severed Heads,
The Victims,
Black Sheep,
Cecil Taylor,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Andrew Hill,
Pylon,
F. McDonald,
Jandek,
The Leaves,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.