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 Costa Rica and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Matthew Bourne to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Skaos,
Matthew Halsall,
The Toasters,
New Order,
Mantronix,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crime,
DNA,
Urselle,
Pantaleimon,
The Dead C,
The Fuzztones,
Joe Finger,
Tom Boy,
Eve St. Jones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Average White Band,
The Index,
Neil Young,
D'Angelo,
Mr. Review,
T.S.O.L.,
Monolake,
Public Enemy,
Ohio Players,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Angry Samoans,
Soft Cell,
Arab on Radar,
Camouflage,
The Remains,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Magma,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Warren Ellis,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gap Band,
Moby Grape,
Steve Hackett,
Newcleus,
Deepchord,
Gang Green,
Sight & Sound,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dead Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
Aural Exciters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Whodini,
Underground Resistance,
Gabor Szabo,
Sun Ra,
Half Japanese,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tim Buckley,
Ken Boothe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.