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 Serbia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Seoul.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rosa Yemen to the funk 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Colin Newman,
Goldenarms,
Marshall Jefferson,
Moby Grape,
EPMD,
Max Romeo,
Rapeman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Icehouse,
Fad Gadget,
Fear,
Panda Bear,
Ice-T,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
James White and The Blacks,
Monks,
10cc,
Sex Pistols,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Y Pants,
Angry Samoans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Amon Düül,
Cymande,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Last Poets,
Sexual Harrassment,
MC5,
Blossom Toes,
Symarip,
The Mummies,
Lebanon Hanover,
In Retrospect,
The Saints,
The Litter,
Marvin Gaye,
The New Christs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Flash Fearless,
Underground Resistance,
Albert Ayler,
The Wake,
Infiniti,
Second Layer,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roy Ayers,
Kerri Chandler,
48th St. Collective,
The Gladiators,
Monolake,
Nico,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.