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 Turkmenistan and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rakim to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Terrestrial Tones,
R.M.O.,
John Coltrane,
Arcadia,
Ultra Naté,
Mission of Burma,
Eden Ahbez,
Josef K,
Unwound,
Barbara Tucker,
Porter Ricks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dirtbombs,
Wire,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fela Kuti,
Yazoo,
The Move,
Saccharine Trust,
Marine Girls,
CMW,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pantytec,
Moss Icon,
The Dead C,
In Retrospect,
Lakeside,
Zapp,
The Last Poets,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scan 7,
Scrapy,
Blancmange,
Scion,
The Smiths,
Dorothy Ashby,
Peter and Kerry,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lower 48,
the Soft Cell,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Normal,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Siglo XX,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Skatalites,
Sight & Sound,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Guru Guru,
Kenny Larkin,
Jandek,
Eric B and Rakim,
Los Fastidios,
Agitation Free,
Yellowson,
Rod Modell,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.