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 Comoros and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Milan.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gang Starr to the rock 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Man Eating Sloth,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fat Boys,
Robert Hood,
Peter & Gordon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eurythmics,
Lou Christie,
Stereo Dub,
Chrome,
Terry Callier,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Country Teasers,
Connie Case,
Bootsy Collins,
Ludus,
Whodini,
The Beau Brummels,
Dark Day,
Joyce Sims,
The Pretty Things,
The Kinks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marine Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Smog,
The Gap Band,
Yazoo,
The Gun Club,
Section 25,
The Walker Brothers,
UT,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Funky Four + One,
The Neon Judgement,
Brass Construction,
The Real Kids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Groovy Waters,
Roger Hodgson,
Alton Ellis,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Motions,
Grey Daturas,
Second Layer,
Model 500,
David Axelrod,
Ice-T,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Gories,
Cecil Taylor,
Spoonie Gee,
Bob Dylan,
Quando Quango,
Donny Hathaway,
Japan,
Royal Trux,
Ituana,
Depeche Mode,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.