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 Korea North and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Robert Wyatt to the rap 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Tres Demented,
Animal Collective,
Connie Case,
Pierre Henry,
The Real Kids,
Adolescents,
Fugazi,
Kenny Larkin,
David McCallum,
Procol Harum,
The Trojans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Charles Mingus,
Wire,
Rotary Connection,
The Gap Band,
Warsaw,
Sam Rivers,
Jerry's Kids,
Massinfluence,
the Normal,
Silicon Teens,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Bananas,
John Holt,
Sugar Minott,
Deakin,
Ituana,
Tubeway Army,
Barbara Tucker,
Boredoms,
The Monochrome Set,
Jesper Dahlback,
Yaz,
Popol Vuh,
Ice-T,
Donald Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gang of Four,
Moebius,
Brothers Johnson,
Surgeon,
Qualms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ludus,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Smoke,
Guru Guru,
Sonic Youth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Pus,
Dave Gahan,
Jawbox,
The Litter,
Cymande,
Chris & Cosey,
Young Marble Giants,
Ponytail,
Grey Daturas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.