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 Chad and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Severed Heads to the jazz 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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins 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?
Motorama,
Barbara Tucker,
The Gap Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Funky Four + One,
One Last Wish,
Schoolly D,
Rites of Spring,
Ultimate Spinach,
Q and Not U,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dark Day,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gang Starr,
Graham Central Station,
Das Ding,
Agent Orange,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cecil Taylor,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Avey Tare,
Soft Machine,
Neu!,
Hoover,
Silicon Teens,
the Swans,
The Barracudas,
The New Christs,
These Immortal Souls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Magazine,
Lower 48,
The Doors,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Todd Terry,
The Fire Engines,
Archie Shepp,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Last Poets,
Flamin' Groovies,
Public Enemy,
X-101,
cv313,
Max Romeo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Man Parrish,
Terrestrial Tones,
L. Decosne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nils Olav,
The Star Department,
Ponytail,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Grey Daturas,
Cluster,
The Invisible,
The Sonics,
The Stooges,
Delon & Dalcan,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.