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 Sweden and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Kurtis Blow to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus 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?
Connie Case,
Michelle Simonal,
The Real Kids,
The Doobie Brothers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Suburban Knight,
Interpol,
The Smiths,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
DNA,
Brothers Johnson,
Bob Dylan,
Eli Mardock,
Livin' Joy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Smoke,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Buckinghams,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Johnny Clarke,
Pere Ubu,
Lyres,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Visage,
Spoonie Gee,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Fall,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roy Ayers,
Scientists,
DJ Sneak,
Frankie Knuckles,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skriet,
The Associates,
Sun City Girls,
Anakelly,
Harpers Bizarre,
Con Funk Shun,
Warsaw,
Stiv Bators,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
MDC,
Tropical Tobacco,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Standells,
Crime,
EPMD,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Qualms,
Gang Green,
Parry Music,
Outsiders,
John Foxx,
Thompson Twins,
The Human League,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Misunderstood,
David Axelrod,
Lindisfarne,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.