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 Burundi and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mr. Review to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans 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?
The Litter,
The Electric Prunes,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Flag,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eli Mardock,
DNA,
Bob Dylan,
The Real Kids,
Sixth Finger,
The Trojans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Leonard Cohen,
Rosa Yemen,
Television Personalities,
Pussy Galore,
Thompson Twins,
Basic Channel,
Smog,
Gichy Dan,
Eric Copeland,
Bill Wells,
Sparks,
Glenn Branca,
The Dave Clark Five,
Minutemen,
Newcleus,
Gil Scott Heron,
E-Dancer,
Ornette Coleman,
Cymande,
The Neon Judgement,
Todd Terry,
Ronan,
Mo-Dettes,
Model 500,
Faust,
The Moleskins,
the Bar-Kays,
Iggy Pop,
Faraquet,
Derrick Morgan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Patti Smith,
The Star Department,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bobby Sherman,
Harry Pussy,
Deadbeat,
Brick,
John Holt,
Jandek,
Arab on Radar,
DJ Style,
Blossom Toes,
The Pop Group,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Susan Cadogan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Q and Not U,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.