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 Oman and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Half Japanese to the dance 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Bill Near,
The Busters,
Massinfluence,
Das Ding,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Babytalk,
Reuben Wilson,
Radio Birdman,
Spandau Ballet,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Harry Pussy,
Pantytec,
X-101,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Connie Case,
Man Eating Sloth,
Outsiders,
Sixth Finger,
Basic Channel,
Wasted Youth,
Lalo Schifrin,
Faust,
Tim Buckley,
the Swans,
The Martian,
H. Thieme,
Japan,
The Stooges,
Infiniti,
Glambeats Corp.,
Thee Headcoats,
Glenn Branca,
Magazine,
Archie Shepp,
Harpers Bizarre,
Henry Cow,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Sound,
Urselle,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Techniques,
Lou Reed,
Crooked Eye,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ornette Coleman,
The Cowsills,
E-Dancer,
Pierre Henry,
Siglo XX,
Graham Central Station,
Guru Guru,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pole,
The Birthday Party,
World's Most,
The Five Americans,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.