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 Austria and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Q65 to the electroclash 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Derrick Morgan,
Swans,
Index,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Con Funk Shun,
Camouflage,
Surgeon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Silicon Teens,
Gichy Dan,
Television Personalities,
The Gories,
June of 44,
John Coltrane,
Rapeman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Stiv Bators,
B.T. Express,
Skriet,
Letta Mbulu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rekid,
The Blues Magoos,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Qualms,
Donny Hathaway,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jerry's Kids,
Joy Division,
Rhythm & Sound,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scientists,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rufus Thomas,
Tom Boy,
The Velvet Underground,
Henry Cow,
Lightning Bolt,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brothers Johnson,
Brand Nubian,
Nik Kershaw,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Barry Ungar,
Accadde A,
Moss Icon,
Mantronix,
Slave,
X-Ray Spex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sugar Minott,
Jawbox,
The Cowsills,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.