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 Mauritania and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ice-T to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
The Wake,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mission of Burma,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tres Demented,
Barry Ungar,
Susan Cadogan,
Gil Scott Heron,
David Bowie,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Johnny Clarke,
Roger Hodgson,
Robert Görl,
Magazine,
The Fuzztones,
X-101,
Marcia Griffiths,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Sound,
The Index,
Sarah Menescal,
The Electric Prunes,
X-Ray Spex,
Parry Music,
John Cale,
Anthony Braxton,
Jacques Brel,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Divine Comedy,
Bronski Beat,
Angry Samoans,
Scientists,
Depeche Mode,
Bootsy Collins,
Ten City,
Amazonics,
Black Pus,
The Young Rascals,
Laurel Aitken,
Chris & Cosey,
Amon Düül,
B.T. Express,
New York Dolls,
The Velvet Underground,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Blues Magoos,
Ken Boothe,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Fall,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lyres,
The American Breed,
The Victims,
Newcleus,
Cameo,
Pylon,
Dennis Brown,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.