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 Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe 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 Dirtbombs to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
The Star Department,
Sun Ra,
New Order,
The Beau Brummels,
Gichy Dan,
The Standells,
Jandek,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Doors,
Tomorrow,
The Zeros,
Q and Not U,
Dorothy Ashby,
Moebius,
Bad Manners,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cheater Slicks,
Don Cherry,
Jacob Miller,
Reuben Wilson,
Bootsy Collins,
Index,
Ash Ra Tempel,
JFA,
Soft Machine,
OOIOO,
Jawbox,
Davy DMX,
The Human League,
Roxette,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cymande,
Howard Jones,
Skarface,
China Crisis,
The Skatalites,
Camouflage,
Country Teasers,
The Evens,
Anakelly,
Wasted Youth,
Siglo XX,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joe Finger,
Connie Case,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Hutcherson,
10cc,
Bronski Beat,
Gong,
The Gladiators,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Desert Stars,
Ludus,
Delta 5,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alison Limerick,
Glambeats Corp.,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.