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 Samoa and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Eve St. Jones 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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Sandy B,
Aaron Thompson,
Junior Murvin,
Shuggie Otis,
The Monochrome Set,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Porter Ricks,
Lakeside,
Supertramp,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Monks,
Rapeman,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fall,
Amon Düül,
Aural Exciters,
Judy Mowatt,
Mandrill,
Isaac Hayes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mr. Review,
Infiniti,
Rakim,
Deepchord,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jandek,
The Fire Engines,
Ice-T,
Marc Almond,
The Wake,
Kurtis Blow,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
These Immortal Souls,
Youth Brigade,
The Gap Band,
The Martian,
Ten City,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Gladiators,
John Cale,
Bush Tetras,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crispy Ambulance,
Panda Bear,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Stiv Bators,
The Fugs,
Brick,
Dual Sessions,
Joe Finger,
Intrusion,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pantaleimon,
The Cowsills,
New Age Steppers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Electric Prunes,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.