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 Uzbekistan and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pet Shop Boys,
Archie Shepp,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Trojans,
Black Moon,
Black Sheep,
The Last Poets,
Joyce Sims,
Japan,
Kaleidoscope,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Blues Magoos,
Scientists,
Cluster,
the Association,
Faraquet,
Pere Ubu,
Pharoah Sanders,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kas Product,
Von Mondo,
Neil Young,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ludus,
Tomorrow,
Eurythmics,
The Slits,
Hardrive,
Newcleus,
The Fuzztones,
Leonard Cohen,
Dawn Penn,
Davy DMX,
Wings,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dead C,
Anthony Braxton,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Stooges,
Black Pus,
Half Japanese,
Bobby Hutcherson,
China Crisis,
Slick Rick,
Radiopuhelimet,
Country Teasers,
Skriet,
The Buckinghams,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kurtis Blow,
Kool Moe Dee,
Glenn Branca,
Soulsonic Force,
In Retrospect,
Section 25,
Metal Thangz,
Inner City,
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.