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 Swaziland and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 Peter and Kerry to the dance 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
DNA,
The Golliwogs,
Motorama,
Newcleus,
Janne Schatter,
Stiv Bators,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cheater Slicks,
Minor Threat,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ornette Coleman,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deakin,
Kurtis Blow,
H. Thieme,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Suburban Knight,
Glenn Branca,
Stockholm Monsters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Amazonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fugazi,
Mo-Dettes,
The Associates,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jandek,
Susan Cadogan,
Mantronix,
Crash Course in Science,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rufus Thomas,
Ice-T,
Yusef Lateef,
Donny Hathaway,
Maleditus Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eve St. Jones,
These Immortal Souls,
Can,
Oblivians,
The Pop Group,
The Names,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Agent Orange,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rosa Yemen,
Gong,
Symarip,
The New Christs,
ABBA,
Pere Ubu,
The Leaves,
Make Up,
The Trojans,
The Knickerbockers,
Hasil Adkins,
Parry Music,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.