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 Solomon Islands and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes 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 FM Einheit to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Section 25,
Skaos,
The Seeds,
Procol Harum,
Colin Newman,
Fat Boys,
Morten Harket,
Outsiders,
Rapeman,
Joe Finger,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Blancmange,
Derrick May,
Agent Orange,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Qualms,
James White and The Blacks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dawn Penn,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nirvana,
Alison Limerick,
Deakin,
Nas,
Judy Mowatt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
World's Most,
Leonard Cohen,
The Smoke,
CMW,
EPMD,
Marshall Jefferson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crime,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Quadrant,
Patti Smith,
Aswad,
K-Klass,
Sixth Finger,
The Cramps,
The Move,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Parry Music,
The Zeros,
Country Joe & The Fish,
AZ,
Newcleus,
Roxy Music,
Brass Construction,
Rosa Yemen,
Donald Byrd,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
The Mojo Men,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
UT,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.