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 Mali and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord 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 Mission of Burma to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Reagan Youth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
X-102,
Stetsasonic,
Jacob Miller,
Scientists,
Oneida,
Shoche,
Jandek,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Victims,
Slave,
Depeche Mode,
Dawn Penn,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Negative Approach,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Nico,
The Mummies,
Pierre Henry,
Visage,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Janne Schatter,
The Fall,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mr. Review,
The Offenders,
The Fortunes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minutemen,
Altered Images,
Gang Starr,
Porter Ricks,
Lungfish,
The Sonics,
Avey Tare,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Golliwogs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Silicon Teens,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barrington Levy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bill Wells,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cluster,
The Remains,
The Pretty Things,
The Dirtbombs,
Althea and Donna,
Kaleidoscope,
Bush Tetras,
Electric Prunes,
Anthony Braxton,
The Doobie Brothers,
kango's stein massive,
10cc,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.