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 Guyana and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lyon.
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 Mr. Review to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Ash Ra Tempel,
8 Eyed Spy,
Camberwell Now,
Average White Band,
Neu!,
Liliput,
Avey Tare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The American Breed,
Yazoo,
Swell Maps,
Kaleidoscope,
Lungfish,
Theoretical Girls,
Television Personalities,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Basic Channel,
the Slits,
The Divine Comedy,
MC5,
Thompson Twins,
The Residents,
Rosa Yemen,
Delta 5,
Pierre Henry,
Matthew Bourne,
Monks,
The Stooges,
Donald Byrd,
The Sound,
Magma,
Aswad,
Japan,
Wasted Youth,
The Evens,
Sällskapet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lightning Bolt,
The Sonics,
Alphaville,
Deadbeat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Quando Quango,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Al Stewart,
Shuggie Otis,
Stetsasonic,
Robert Görl,
Sex Pistols,
Mantronix,
The Fire Engines,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fluxion,
The Angels of Light,
Outsiders,
Alice Coltrane,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Whodini,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Agitation Free,
Loose Ends,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.