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 United States and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Agent Orange,
The Techniques,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Skatalites,
Hoover,
Kerri Chandler,
Ten City,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Moody Blues,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Faust,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Carl Craig,
Lungfish,
The Sound,
The Shadows of Knight,
China Crisis,
Swell Maps,
Von Mondo,
Swans,
Bang On A Can,
Flipper,
Ohio Players,
Johnny Clarke,
Matthew Bourne,
The Cowsills,
Bush Tetras,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Black Flag,
Spoonie Gee,
MC5,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pagans,
Bobby Byrd,
Heaven 17,
Eli Mardock,
Hardrive,
Y Pants,
Hot Snakes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Aaron Thompson,
Subhumans,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobby Womack,
The Modern Lovers,
Wolf Eyes,
Organ,
The Beau Brummels,
The Move,
John Lydon,
Kas Product,
FM Einheit,
Saccharine Trust,
Pere Ubu,
The Five Americans,
Mandrill,
Ponytail,
The Offenders,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.