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 Liberia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Visage to the techno 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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Davy DMX,
Guru Guru,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultravox,
Kayak,
The Velvet Underground,
Soulsonic Force,
The Tremeloes,
The Electric Prunes,
Arthur Verocai,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Five Americans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jacques Brel,
The Golliwogs,
Minor Threat,
Faraquet,
Procol Harum,
Jeff Mills,
Severed Heads,
The Martian,
Piero Umiliani,
Malaria!,
Rites of Spring,
Unrelated Segments,
Lebanon Hanover,
Livin' Joy,
Ossler,
The Smoke,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mantronix,
Skarface,
Agent Orange,
Roxette,
Ice-T,
Boz Scaggs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Infiniti,
Alison Limerick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Sonics,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Dave Clark Five,
Grey Daturas,
Sällskapet,
Bill Near,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dave Gahan,
June Days,
Sixth Finger,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bob Dylan,
Ken Boothe,
Hoover,
Amon Düül II,
Tubeway Army,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.