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 Ethiopia and from Shanghai.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer 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 Surgeon to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
The Blues Magoos,
Mars,
Nils Olav,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fluxion,
Andrew Hill,
Pussy Galore,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Slave,
Spandau Ballet,
Sparks,
The Young Rascals,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Angry Samoans,
X-Ray Spex,
MC5,
Kerri Chandler,
Soul II Soul,
Ralphi Rosario,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yaz,
Cymande,
Sight & Sound,
K-Klass,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gang Starr,
Al Stewart,
Quantec,
Index,
Patti Smith,
Mission of Burma,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Moebius,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Knickerbockers,
Von Mondo,
The Offenders,
Skriet,
Moss Icon,
Public Enemy,
The Dead C,
Pagans,
Ossler,
Chris & Cosey,
Alphaville,
Depeche Mode,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bootsy Collins,
Glenn Branca,
The Velvet Underground,
Bauhaus,
Technova,
The Golliwogs,
Parry Music,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Letta Mbulu,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.