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 Kuwait and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Todd Rundgren to the grunge 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Joey Negro,
Make Up,
Magma,
Toni Rubio,
the Association,
Hot Snakes,
Tom Boy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lightning Bolt,
Robert Görl,
The Velvet Underground,
Massinfluence,
Fela Kuti,
Jimmy McGriff,
Barry Ungar,
Trumans Water,
The Wake,
Quadrant,
Gong,
the Sonics,
Lower 48,
Chris & Cosey,
Bluetip,
Sam Rivers,
CMW,
The Litter,
Fad Gadget,
David Bowie,
PIL,
Colin Newman,
The Blues Magoos,
The Pop Group,
Newcleus,
Pantaleimon,
Average White Band,
The Smoke,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Star Department,
The Happenings,
Ossler,
Eric B and Rakim,
Unwound,
Japan,
Crispian St. Peters,
X-Ray Spex,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marshall Jefferson,
Masters at Work,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Warren Ellis,
The Names,
Pet Shop Boys,
Laurel Aitken,
Eli Mardock,
Derrick May,
Deadbeat,
Gabor Szabo,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.