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 Venezuela 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 Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar 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 Suburban Knight to the grime 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Ultimate Spinach,
KRS-One,
Lungfish,
The Cramps,
Dark Day,
The Index,
Nirvana,
Sonic Youth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Shoche,
Flash Fearless,
Clear Light,
Isaac Hayes,
Gang Gang Dance,
New York Dolls,
Whodini,
Graham Central Station,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Moon,
Royal Trux,
Amazonics,
Goldenarms,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Velvet Underground,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kas Product,
The Golliwogs,
Talk Talk,
Arcadia,
Bob Dylan,
The Music Machine,
Organ,
the Sonics,
U.S. Maple,
Agitation Free,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Smiths,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Quadrant,
Guru Guru,
F. McDonald,
Los Fastidios,
Suburban Knight,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Standells,
Arthur Verocai,
Peter and Kerry,
Marc Almond,
Kenny Larkin,
the Soft Cell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Desert Stars,
Johnny Clarke,
La Düsseldorf,
Liliput,
Intrusion,
Fugazi,
Fat Boys,
Crooked Eye,
Nation of Ulysses,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.