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 Jordan and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manila.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Sonics to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang on a Can All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Moody Blues,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mr. Review,
Blake Baxter,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Human League,
Yazoo,
T.S.O.L.,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Blackbyrds,
A Certain Ratio,
Radiohead,
Grandmaster Flash,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Last Poets,
June Days,
Nico,
Yaz,
The Star Department,
Eve St. Jones,
The Martian,
Ten City,
Black Pus,
Porter Ricks,
Toni Rubio,
Joe Finger,
The Monks,
Guru Guru,
cv313,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Japan,
Los Fastidios,
Robert Hood,
Visage,
Scratch Acid,
The Human League,
Anthony Braxton,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tomorrow,
Gang Green,
Icehouse,
Traffic Nightmare,
Alice Coltrane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Arthur Verocai,
David Bowie,
Urselle,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bauhaus,
Y Pants,
FM Einheit,
Television Personalities,
John Holt,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.