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 Guinea-Bissau and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Cecil Taylor to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Terrestrial Tones,
Peter and Kerry,
Mission of Burma,
Camouflage,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fad Gadget,
The Smoke,
Crime,
The Busters,
Janne Schatter,
Aloha Tigers,
D'Angelo,
Khruangbin,
Pussy Galore,
Section 25,
Moebius,
Television,
Big Daddy Kane,
Agent Orange,
The Skatalites,
Suburban Knight,
Minor Threat,
Ultimate Spinach,
Letta Mbulu,
John Coltrane,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Red Krayola,
Pantytec,
Harmonia,
The Monks,
Ituana,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joe Finger,
Kaleidoscope,
Terry Callier,
Rapeman,
T.S.O.L.,
Cameo,
Make Up,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soul Sonic Force,
Vainqueur,
Donald Byrd,
the Bar-Kays,
A Certain Ratio,
Quadrant,
Fela Kuti,
Visage,
Mandrill,
DJ Sneak,
Drexciya,
Banda Bassotti,
Anakelly,
Icehouse,
The Velvet Underground,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gang of Four,
Byron Stingily,
Pylon,
Max Romeo,
Essential Logic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.