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 Norway and from Tokyo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Toni Rubio to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Groovy Waters. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
The Black Dice,
This Heat,
Altered Images,
The Music Machine,
Dorothy Ashby,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cowsills,
Letta Mbulu,
Ronan,
Kenny Larkin,
AZ,
Ronnie Foster,
ABC,
Albert Ayler,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Moon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wolf Eyes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Pretty Things,
Minutemen,
Infiniti,
Warren Ellis,
Althea and Donna,
Mandrill,
Banda Bassotti,
Eurythmics,
Q65,
Cluster,
The Fugs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Susan Cadogan,
Alphaville,
PIL,
Moss Icon,
Neil Young,
The United States of America,
Harmonia,
Rhythm & Sound,
Oneida,
Nas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Surgeon,
Lungfish,
Theoretical Girls,
Shoche,
Glenn Branca,
Sandy B,
Yusef Lateef,
Cal Tjader,
Roxette,
Joe Finger,
Jacques Brel,
Can,
Prince Buster,
Pere Ubu,
Terry Callier,
Talk Talk,
The Slits,
The Smiths,
Big Daddy Kane,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.