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 Belgium and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Donald Fagen 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 Eric Copeland to the grunge 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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Monks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Country Teasers,
Desert Stars,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pere Ubu,
The Techniques,
One Last Wish,
Quadrant,
The Cowsills,
Todd Terry,
T. Rex,
Sällskapet,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Glenn Branca,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kerri Chandler,
Young Marble Giants,
Loose Ends,
Tom Boy,
The United States of America,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Malaria!,
Public Enemy,
Lou Reed,
Alison Limerick,
Curtis Mayfield,
Saccharine Trust,
Connie Case,
These Immortal Souls,
Second Layer,
The Searchers,
Cluster,
Dennis Brown,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joey Negro,
Echospace,
Anthony Braxton,
Supertramp,
Livin' Joy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Moss Icon,
UT,
Gastr Del Sol,
Television,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Real Kids,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tommy Roe,
New York Dolls,
Khruangbin,
Soft Cell,
Magma,
Gang Green,
Archie Shepp,
The Slackers,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.