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 Swaziland and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Half Japanese to the crunk 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance 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 a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Von Mondo,
Sister Nancy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Iggy Pop,
Rekid,
Cluster,
Oneida,
New York Dolls,
Lakeside,
Neu!,
the Sonics,
the Human League,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Flipper,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Johnny Osbourne,
Roger Hodgson,
The Misunderstood,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Japan,
Lyres,
K-Klass,
The Happenings,
The Busters,
Johnny Clarke,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
B.T. Express,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pharoah Sanders,
Q and Not U,
Marine Girls,
Franke,
Gastr Del Sol,
10cc,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Black Flag,
The Residents,
The Last Poets,
Swans,
Scion,
Underground Resistance,
The Fugs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Accadde A,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joe Smooth,
Spandau Ballet,
Ornette Coleman,
The Music Machine,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Birthday Party,
Drexciya,
The Divine Comedy,
The Human League,
The Gories,
the Soft Cell,
Vladislav Delay,
Terrestrial Tones,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deadbeat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.