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 Ukraine and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin 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 Soulsonic Force to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Peter and Kerry,
B.T. Express,
Tom Boy,
X-Ray Spex,
Lungfish,
The Doobie Brothers,
Johnny Clarke,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scan 7,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Young Marble Giants,
The Electric Prunes,
The Mojo Men,
Aural Exciters,
Nick Fraelich,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Invisible,
The Doors,
Y Pants,
Moss Icon,
Metal Thangz,
Organ,
MC5,
China Crisis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Todd Terry,
Sun Ra,
Rotary Connection,
Supertramp,
John Coltrane,
Buzzcocks,
Man Parrish,
Quadrant,
X-101,
Boredoms,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Black Dice,
Crime,
Oblivians,
Ice-T,
Spandau Ballet,
The Slits,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dead Boys,
One Last Wish,
Marc Almond,
Magazine,
The Five Americans,
Fugazi,
Ituana,
These Immortal Souls,
ABC,
Camouflage,
Magma,
the Normal,
Q65,
June of 44,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Holt,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.