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 Brunei and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Winnipeg.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pylon to the rap 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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Make Up,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Human League,
Darondo,
Bang On A Can,
Con Funk Shun,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aloha Tigers,
Mo-Dettes,
Model 500,
Maurizio,
Von Mondo,
Severed Heads,
Gang of Four,
Scratch Acid,
Can,
Sandy B,
UT,
Tom Boy,
Cluster,
The Techniques,
Guru Guru,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cure,
Minutemen,
The Index,
Sonic Youth,
Freddie Wadling,
Pere Ubu,
The Skatalites,
Scrapy,
Nils Olav,
Crispy Ambulance,
Don Cherry,
Rites of Spring,
Sällskapet,
Erykah Badu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Graham Central Station,
Blancmange,
Negative Approach,
Sex Pistols,
Flamin' Groovies,
Public Enemy,
Average White Band,
Easy Going,
Newcleus,
Q and Not U,
These Immortal Souls,
Glenn Branca,
Simply Red,
Patti Smith,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ohio Players,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Absolute Body Control,
Cameo,
Wire,
Ponytail,
Minny Pops,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.