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 Mozambique 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Black Flag to the crunk 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wings,
Funky Four + One,
Sun City Girls,
Joensuu 1685,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gichy Dan,
Motorama,
Harmonia,
Avey Tare,
David Axelrod,
Peter and Kerry,
New Order,
Pulsallama,
Suburban Knight,
Sly & The Family Stone,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Dark Day,
Barrington Levy,
Slick Rick,
Los Fastidios,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Shoche,
Urselle,
The Walker Brothers,
The Slits,
Hasil Adkins,
Ornette Coleman,
Drive Like Jehu,
Theoretical Girls,
Black Moon,
Soft Machine,
Liliput,
Moss Icon,
Darondo,
Banda Bassotti,
Ultimate Spinach,
Massinfluence,
Albert Ayler,
Piero Umiliani,
The Fortunes,
Lightning Bolt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lyres,
The Durutti Column,
Pylon,
Livin' Joy,
Buzzcocks,
The Mummies,
JFA,
Slave,
John Foxx,
Gabor Szabo,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Standells,
Skriet,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Count Five,
Sonic Youth,
Parry Music,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.