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 Luxembourg and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 Tropical Tobacco to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eddi Front,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Liliput,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Easy Going,
Moebius,
Quantec,
These Immortal Souls,
Amon Düül,
K-Klass,
Wire,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
B.T. Express,
Cameo,
Los Fastidios,
Television,
Swell Maps,
Negative Approach,
Al Stewart,
Joe Finger,
Blossom Toes,
Crime,
Jeru the Damaja,
Derrick May,
The Velvet Underground,
Toni Rubio,
UT,
Crispy Ambulance,
Reagan Youth,
Matthew Bourne,
The Searchers,
Freddie Wadling,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Howard Jones,
Babytalk,
Stereo Dub,
The Martian,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Moon,
Organ,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Residents,
MDC,
Graham Central Station,
Livin' Joy,
Todd Terry,
China Crisis,
Chris Corsano,
Steve Hackett,
Pantaleimon,
Cecil Taylor,
Radio Birdman,
Lungfish,
CMW,
KRS-One,
Barrington Levy,
T. Rex,
Swans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.