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 Sri Lanka and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 Anakelly to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
B.T. Express,
The Monochrome Set,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barclay James Harvest,
June of 44,
The Angels of Light,
Marcia Griffiths,
James White and The Blacks,
Drexciya,
Alice Coltrane,
Minny Pops,
The Gap Band,
The Cramps,
E-Dancer,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Vogues,
The Slackers,
Minor Threat,
The Shadows of Knight,
Smog,
Mary Jane Girls,
Yazoo,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Mummies,
Eden Ahbez,
Todd Terry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fugs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rod Modell,
Harpers Bizarre,
kango's stein massive,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Music Machine,
The Moleskins,
Ronnie Foster,
Jimmy McGriff,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jandek,
Buzzcocks,
F. McDonald,
DNA,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Black Dice,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang Starr,
Yusef Lateef,
Traffic Nightmare,
A Certain Ratio,
Ohio Players,
Jerry's Kids,
Moss Icon,
Banda Bassotti,
Tomorrow,
Glambeats Corp.,
Make Up,
Mandrill,
Robert Görl,
Malaria!,
Cymande,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.