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 Equatorial Guinea and from Philadelphia.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Adolescents to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Gabor Szabo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Avey Tare,
Kaleidoscope,
Malaria!,
The Searchers,
Albert Ayler,
KRS-One,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dual Sessions,
The Walker Brothers,
Kas Product,
Mission of Burma,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Judy Mowatt,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pere Ubu,
Terry Callier,
The Gun Club,
The Slits,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Leaves,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gastr Del Sol,
Porter Ricks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Silicon Teens,
James White and The Blacks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Zapp,
Bluetip,
U.S. Maple,
Moss Icon,
Audionom,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Warren Ellis,
Cymande,
Robert Wyatt,
Bill Near,
Black Sheep,
John Lydon,
The Techniques,
Kool Moe Dee,
Deakin,
Max Romeo,
The American Breed,
EPMD,
Young Marble Giants,
Youth Brigade,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Inner City,
Marvin Gaye,
Kerri Chandler,
Marine Girls,
Von Mondo,
Quantec,
Lou Reed,
Maleditus Sound,
Banda Bassotti,
Electric Prunes,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.