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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Black Flag to the punk 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Dennis Brown,
Sun Ra,
The Mummies,
Sound Behaviour,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ponytail,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Moebius,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Walker Brothers,
Yazoo,
Arthur Verocai,
Fela Kuti,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
F. McDonald,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mojo Men,
DJ Style,
Isaac Hayes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Andrew Hill,
Cybotron,
Jeff Mills,
Sight & Sound,
Duran Duran,
New York Dolls,
Lalo Schifrin,
Underground Resistance,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Stockholm Monsters,
Supertramp,
Magazine,
Crispian St. Peters,
Zapp,
The Toasters,
Lou Reed,
Sugar Minott,
Howard Jones,
Nation of Ulysses,
Donald Byrd,
Maleditus Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
The J.B.'s,
Basic Channel,
Barrington Levy,
Anthony Braxton,
Harry Pussy,
Colin Newman,
the Human League,
The Cowsills,
Lyres,
Amon Düül II,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bill Near,
Swans,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Pretty Things,
Inner City,
Desert Stars,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.