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 United States and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar 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 The United States of America to the disco 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Section 25,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wasted Youth,
Man Eating Sloth,
Y Pants,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Monks,
Average White Band,
Ten City,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Birthday Party,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harry Pussy,
Vladislav Delay,
Brick,
Jandek,
Popol Vuh,
Howard Jones,
Nas,
Gil Scott Heron,
Michelle Simonal,
The Red Krayola,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Vogues,
The Standells,
Stereo Dub,
David Bowie,
Nirvana,
Altered Images,
John Coltrane,
Mark Hollis,
Chris & Cosey,
Pantytec,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Donny Hathaway,
Joy Division,
The Evens,
Eve St. Jones,
Aswad,
Jeff Mills,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Beau Brummels,
the Human League,
ABBA,
Robert Hood,
Scrapy,
David Axelrod,
The Litter,
Mr. Review,
R.M.O.,
Fatback Band,
Connie Case,
Gang of Four,
Fad Gadget,
Marcia Griffiths,
Intrusion,
Swans,
The Happenings,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.