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 Chad and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Idris Muhammad to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Jeff Mills,
PIL,
Spoonie Gee,
The Standells,
Stockholm Monsters,
Metal Thangz,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rites of Spring,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Subhumans,
ABC,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eric Dolphy,
Surgeon,
Marine Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Charles Mingus,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eddi Front,
CMW,
Fat Boys,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Flesh Eaters,
Prince Buster,
Hashim,
Livin' Joy,
the Normal,
Oneida,
Unwound,
Whodini,
Crooked Eye,
Bobby Byrd,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
F. McDonald,
The Modern Lovers,
Monolake,
Wings,
Lakeside,
Wasted Youth,
Anakelly,
Harpers Bizarre,
Moebius,
The Gladiators,
Yaz,
Massinfluence,
the Germs,
The Monks,
Faraquet,
Kenny Larkin,
Outsiders,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Kinks,
Leonard Cohen,
Silicon Teens,
Crispy Ambulance,
One Last Wish,
Zero Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mars,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.