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 Venezuela and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Nile Rodgers 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 electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Ultravox,
The Seeds,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fat Boys,
The Last Poets,
Pierre Henry,
Eurythmics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bootsy Collins,
Eric Dolphy,
Sparks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Motorama,
Derrick Morgan,
Charles Mingus,
Pharoah Sanders,
AZ,
Whodini,
Black Bananas,
Henry Cow,
Bill Near,
New Order,
Stockholm Monsters,
Stetsasonic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
This Heat,
The Index,
Section 25,
The Cramps,
48th St. Collective,
Sixth Finger,
The Evens,
Kevin Saunderson,
Soulsonic Force,
The Knickerbockers,
Eve St. Jones,
Gastr Del Sol,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Alphaville,
Hot Snakes,
Maurizio,
Dorothy Ashby,
ABBA,
The Selecter,
Max Romeo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cluster,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
CMW,
Khruangbin,
The Fuzztones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Deadbeat,
Mad Mike,
Monolake,
Junior Murvin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.