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 Belize and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 World's Most to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kurtis Blow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mad Mike,
cv313,
Black Flag,
Anakelly,
Swell Maps,
Quantec,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pulsallama,
In Retrospect,
The Misunderstood,
Janne Schatter,
Spandau Ballet,
Unrelated Segments,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Alarm Clocks,
Toni Rubio,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rod Modell,
The Beau Brummels,
Barbara Tucker,
X-101,
Lucky Dragons,
The Doors,
Procol Harum,
Tommy Roe,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fall,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Talk Talk,
the Swans,
Neil Young,
Fat Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
Sex Pistols,
AZ,
Chrome,
Scott Walker,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Camberwell Now,
Minutemen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Echospace,
Davy DMX,
Funky Four + One,
Oblivians,
Bill Near,
Joyce Sims,
Marvin Gaye,
Nick Fraelich,
The Real Kids,
K-Klass,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Saints,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.