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 Calgary.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
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 güiro 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the funk 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach 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?
Thompson Twins,
Neu!,
Infiniti,
Eve St. Jones,
Crash Course in Science,
Andrew Hill,
Swell Maps,
The United States of America,
Japan,
OOIOO,
The Fall,
Gong,
Terry Callier,
Idris Muhammad,
KRS-One,
Deepchord,
Stiv Bators,
Sex Pistols,
Swans,
Charles Mingus,
Can,
The Mighty Diamonds,
X-101,
The Raincoats,
kango's stein massive,
Pagans,
Parry Music,
Fluxion,
The Searchers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Sonics,
Throbbing Gristle,
Vladislav Delay,
Ludus,
Freddie Wadling,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Saints,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eric B and Rakim,
Monks,
Index,
Groovy Waters,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ohio Players,
John Cale,
A Certain Ratio,
Faust,
Goldenarms,
Bad Manners,
Mission of Burma,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Yellowson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Agent Orange,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Doors,
the Soft Cell,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.