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 Guinea-Bissau and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin 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 Glenn Branca to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science 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 punk 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 güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Robert Hood,
Babytalk,
Frankie Knuckles,
Average White Band,
the Soft Cell,
The New Christs,
Carl Craig,
Pole,
Nico,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fugazi,
Bang On A Can,
Pierre Henry,
Reuben Wilson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ituana,
Tres Demented,
Vladislav Delay,
Ponytail,
Aswad,
Delon & Dalcan,
Amon Düül II,
Jesper Dahlback,
Todd Terry,
Youth Brigade,
Althea and Donna,
The Names,
Thee Headcoats,
B.T. Express,
Marc Almond,
Sex Pistols,
Dark Day,
Brass Construction,
The Dirtbombs,
Subhumans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Fugs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roy Ayers,
Sarah Menescal,
The Human League,
Mark Hollis,
The Golliwogs,
48th St. Collective,
Jacques Brel,
Jacob Miller,
Metal Thangz,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alice Coltrane,
Bad Manners,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Alison Limerick,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Index,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.