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 South Africa and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 KRS-One to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Shuggie Otis,
The Gun Club,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Make Up,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sex Pistols,
MDC,
Man Eating Sloth,
Moby Grape,
Mad Mike,
In Retrospect,
Masters at Work,
The Count Five,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Yellowson,
Idris Muhammad,
Henry Cow,
Underground Resistance,
Faraquet,
The American Breed,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joe Finger,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Visage,
The Sonics,
Hasil Adkins,
Danielle Patucci,
Dead Boys,
Brick,
Throbbing Gristle,
8 Eyed Spy,
Joyce Sims,
Intrusion,
The Grass Roots,
Bronski Beat,
The Black Dice,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cymande,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Archie Shepp,
Oneida,
Flash Fearless,
Donald Byrd,
The Raincoats,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cecil Taylor,
Derrick Morgan,
The Move,
The Neon Judgement,
Sarah Menescal,
David Bowie,
Jeff Lynne,
Leonard Cohen,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Soft Cell,
Lungfish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Peter & Gordon,
Sam Rivers,
Ronnie Foster,
Rotary Connection,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.