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 Laos and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare 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 Crime to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Blossom Toes,
Stereo Dub,
Ice-T,
Panda Bear,
T.S.O.L.,
the Germs,
Moebius,
Bang On A Can,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Organ,
Lower 48,
Funkadelic,
Monks,
Soul II Soul,
The Mummies,
Nation of Ulysses,
Slave,
Roy Ayers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Funky Four + One,
Dennis Brown,
Black Bananas,
The Martian,
Lightning Bolt,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cluster,
Roger Hodgson,
Howard Jones,
The Durutti Column,
Yusef Lateef,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Chris & Cosey,
Jawbox,
Silicon Teens,
The Searchers,
Black Sheep,
Soulsonic Force,
Zero Boys,
Bronski Beat,
The United States of America,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mark Hollis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Agent Orange,
Lungfish,
the Bar-Kays,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Human League,
Hashim,
The Detroit Cobras,
Half Japanese,
MDC,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scion,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.