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 East Timor and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Star Department to the techno 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Chris & Cosey,
Oblivians,
Visage,
The Fire Engines,
The Index,
Rufus Thomas,
Con Funk Shun,
The Star Department,
Amon Düül,
The New Christs,
Laurel Aitken,
Sun City Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Y Pants,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Aural Exciters,
Marc Almond,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Remains,
Chris Corsano,
The Litter,
The Seeds,
Radiohead,
Traffic Nightmare,
Harry Pussy,
Pagans,
Marvin Gaye,
Stiv Bators,
Freddie Wadling,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Last Poets,
Cluster,
Audionom,
Fatback Band,
The Leaves,
Das Ding,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Symarip,
Black Bananas,
This Heat,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Monks,
Essential Logic,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Desert Stars,
The Moleskins,
Donald Byrd,
The Cure,
World's Most,
Lyres,
The Detroit Cobras,
Goldenarms,
The Sonics,
Cecil Taylor,
Graham Central Station,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mandrill,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.