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 Saudi Arabia and from Stockholm.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Isaac Hayes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Massinfluence,
Tears for Fears,
a-ha,
Quando Quango,
Technova,
The Human League,
Bang On A Can,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Fad Gadget,
The Last Poets,
The Black Dice,
Nik Kershaw,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roger Hodgson,
Henry Cow,
Jeff Lynne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Charles Mingus,
Carl Craig,
Severed Heads,
Simply Red,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bill Near,
the Soft Cell,
Sam Rivers,
Pantytec,
U.S. Maple,
Surgeon,
Pere Ubu,
Black Sheep,
Sound Behaviour,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Harpers Bizarre,
EPMD,
Eric Copeland,
Mad Mike,
The Beau Brummels,
The Searchers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Todd Rundgren,
Grandmaster Flash,
Inner City,
UT,
Anthony Braxton,
The Sound,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Magma,
Funky Four + One,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Busters,
Echospace,
Yaz,
Altered Images,
Lyres,
Black Bananas,
The Dirtbombs,
F. McDonald,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.