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 Burkina and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 The Blackbyrds to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
the Germs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Almond,
Robert Hood,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yazoo,
Groovy Waters,
Von Mondo,
Guru Guru,
Mark Hollis,
The Golliwogs,
Spoonie Gee,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Amon Düül,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crooked Eye,
The Birthday Party,
Lightning Bolt,
Anthony Braxton,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Divine Comedy,
Thompson Twins,
Minutemen,
Black Pus,
Electric Prunes,
Unrelated Segments,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Nirvana,
Underground Resistance,
The Gladiators,
Urselle,
Dual Sessions,
A Certain Ratio,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pylon,
Ultravox,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kenny Larkin,
John Holt,
Funkadelic,
The Pretty Things,
The Walker Brothers,
Sight & Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pagans,
The Tremeloes,
Lakeside,
Al Stewart,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Siglo XX,
The Happenings,
Brand Nubian,
Drive Like Jehu,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.