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 Saudi Arabia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Oblivians to the rock 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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
The Misunderstood,
Public Enemy,
Swell Maps,
Mr. Review,
Todd Rundgren,
Essential Logic,
Section 25,
Ituana,
Make Up,
The Selecter,
This Heat,
Kurtis Blow,
The Cowsills,
The Blues Magoos,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ken Boothe,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fugs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
R.M.O.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soft Machine,
Dennis Brown,
Saccharine Trust,
Eden Ahbez,
Circle Jerks,
Jeff Mills,
H. Thieme,
Marc Almond,
Chrome,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Isaac Hayes,
Pierre Henry,
Das Ding,
The Barracudas,
Monks,
Pussy Galore,
Joey Negro,
48th St. Collective,
Anthony Braxton,
Symarip,
Pylon,
Clear Light,
Black Flag,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Oneida,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Altered Images,
Gang of Four,
Lungfish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Flash Fearless,
Black Moon,
Colin Newman,
Bob Dylan,
The Red Krayola,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.