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 Gabon and from London.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 theremin 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 Pantaleimon to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Blossom Toes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lou Christie,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Duran Duran,
Chrome,
Piero Umiliani,
Accadde A,
Gregory Isaacs,
Amon Düül II,
Wasted Youth,
Ohio Players,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Charles Mingus,
Au Pairs,
Eve St. Jones,
Model 500,
Jeff Mills,
Terry Callier,
Japan,
The Smoke,
Metal Thangz,
Jacob Miller,
L. Decosne,
Desert Stars,
Nico,
the Normal,
PIL,
Black Sheep,
Henry Cow,
Skriet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Star Department,
Television,
Rod Modell,
Smog,
Ken Boothe,
Sun City Girls,
Public Enemy,
Malaria!,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Doobie Brothers,
Qualms,
Sexual Harrassment,
Radio Birdman,
Sound Behaviour,
The Blues Magoos,
Danielle Patucci,
Los Fastidios,
Sun Ra,
Cecil Taylor,
Cymande,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Searchers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Maleditus Sound,
The Motions,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.