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 Philippines and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Glenn Branca to the grunge 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
The Mojo Men,
Amon Düül II,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Niagra,
The Dave Clark Five,
Con Funk Shun,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Suicide,
Jawbox,
Chris Corsano,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crispian St. Peters,
Model 500,
Inner City,
Stetsasonic,
Maurizio,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Grauzone,
Arthur Verocai,
The Monks,
EPMD,
Freddie Wadling,
The Walker Brothers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nas,
Silicon Teens,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rapeman,
Davy DMX,
Eddi Front,
Gastr Del Sol,
Television,
Brass Construction,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Infiniti,
The Buckinghams,
Marvin Gaye,
Zapp,
Excepter,
Livin' Joy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fear,
James White and The Blacks,
Man Eating Sloth,
UT,
The New Christs,
MC5,
Delta 5,
Brothers Johnson,
Eli Mardock,
The United States of America,
Simply Red,
Wire,
Circle Jerks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wings,
Erykah Badu,
Oblivians,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.