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 Oman and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Eli Mardock to the grunge 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Warren Ellis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sparks,
The Zeros,
Tom Boy,
Mandrill,
Ice-T,
H. Thieme,
Harry Pussy,
Infiniti,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Underground Resistance,
Robert Hood,
a-ha,
Subhumans,
James White and The Blacks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Matthew Bourne,
Mary Jane Girls,
A Certain Ratio,
KRS-One,
Andrew Hill,
Sandy B,
The Names,
The Stooges,
Sight & Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Public Enemy,
The Young Rascals,
Connie Case,
Johnny Clarke,
The Invisible,
Parry Music,
Gang Green,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dawn Penn,
Cymande,
Cecil Taylor,
DJ Sneak,
Scion,
The Move,
The Kinks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Anthony Braxton,
Excepter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Funkadelic,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Susan Cadogan,
Roxy Music,
Radiohead,
Kas Product,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Human League,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Standells,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.