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 Guyana and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Suicide 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Pere Ubu,
Dead Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kayak,
Con Funk Shun,
Moebius,
Robert Wyatt,
Blancmange,
Intrusion,
Piero Umiliani,
Simply Red,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gories,
Index,
Nas,
Sarah Menescal,
Severed Heads,
Barry Ungar,
The Golliwogs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
U.S. Maple,
Blake Baxter,
cv313,
Quadrant,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scrapy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Deakin,
The Count Five,
Joy Division,
The Invisible,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Neil Young,
B.T. Express,
Idris Muhammad,
Lyres,
Subhumans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kurtis Blow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bob Dylan,
Soulsonic Force,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roxy Music,
Beasts of Bourbon,
T. Rex,
The Gun Club,
Depeche Mode,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rapeman,
Gastr Del Sol,
Whodini,
Franke,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Crispian St. Peters,
Todd Rundgren,
The Offenders,
Deepchord,
Procol Harum,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.