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 Guinea and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Beau Brummels to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scion,
Eric Dolphy,
Spandau Ballet,
Kas Product,
Kerrie Biddell,
Magma,
Boz Scaggs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fluxion,
Soulsonic Force,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marvin Gaye,
Eric B and Rakim,
X-101,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jerry's Kids,
Unwound,
The Golliwogs,
Arcadia,
Tubeway Army,
Con Funk Shun,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Coltrane,
Quadrant,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aural Exciters,
The Gap Band,
Bob Dylan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Guru Guru,
Wire,
Zapp,
The Sound,
Joey Negro,
Yaz,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Drexciya,
the Germs,
Robert Hood,
Amon Düül,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Talk Talk,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mark Hollis,
Ossler,
Mission of Burma,
Technova,
Sun City Girls,
Roger Hodgson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Donny Hathaway,
Sound Behaviour,
China Crisis,
Roxy Music,
Pylon,
Sight & Sound,
Matthew Bourne,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.