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 Moldova and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Seeds to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
T.S.O.L.,
Colin Newman,
Archie Shepp,
Can,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marc Almond,
Johnny Clarke,
Pantaleimon,
Robert Görl,
Scan 7,
Patti Smith,
Whodini,
The Cure,
Rosa Yemen,
Donald Byrd,
Judy Mowatt,
Franke,
Ludus,
Simply Red,
John Coltrane,
The Invisible,
Todd Terry,
Glenn Branca,
The Gun Club,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Misunderstood,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Happenings,
The Star Department,
Das Ding,
Cameo,
Wasted Youth,
Traffic Nightmare,
Intrusion,
the Association,
Harpers Bizarre,
Minor Threat,
Con Funk Shun,
the Soft Cell,
Byron Stingily,
Michelle Simonal,
The Barracudas,
The Five Americans,
Drexciya,
Pere Ubu,
Television,
The Selecter,
Sex Pistols,
FM Einheit,
Make Up,
Monks,
Little Man,
Alison Limerick,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Vladislav Delay,
Surgeon,
Don Cherry,
Pierre Henry,
Hardrive,
Goldenarms,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.