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 Uganda and from Mexico City.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet 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 B.T. Express to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Radio Birdman,
The Toasters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Gories,
Joensuu 1685,
Eli Mardock,
Gichy Dan,
Magma,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Chrome,
Crime,
Bobby Sherman,
Accadde A,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rakim,
Loose Ends,
Oblivians,
Shoche,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jeru the Damaja,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Animal Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Malaria!,
Soft Cell,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marc Almond,
The Pretty Things,
The Gap Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Pole,
Goldenarms,
The Happenings,
The Slackers,
Camouflage,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nico,
The Real Kids,
Roxette,
The Names,
Aural Exciters,
Electric Prunes,
Gang Starr,
Amon Düül II,
Lalo Schifrin,
Electric Light Orchestra,
K-Klass,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Smoke,
Bill Wells,
John Foxx,
Rotary Connection,
Andrew Hill,
Crash Course in Science,
The Monks,
Pere Ubu,
Agent Orange,
Iggy Pop,
Bang On A Can,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.