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 Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer 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 Zero Boys to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Glambeats Corp.,
U.S. Maple,
Circle Jerks,
Erasure,
Moby Grape,
Mark Hollis,
Shoche,
Franke,
Schoolly D,
the Fania All-Stars,
Aural Exciters,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Heaven 17,
MC5,
Max Romeo,
Boredoms,
Vainqueur,
Mad Mike,
Black Bananas,
Howard Jones,
The Walker Brothers,
Wolf Eyes,
The Saints,
Jeff Mills,
The Barracudas,
The Shadows of Knight,
Au Pairs,
New Order,
This Heat,
Scott Walker,
B.T. Express,
Magazine,
The Beau Brummels,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tom Boy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Clear Light,
Amon Düül,
Rotary Connection,
Mandrill,
Q and Not U,
Pussy Galore,
the Human League,
Cymande,
Porter Ricks,
The Fuzztones,
PIL,
Oblivians,
Rapeman,
Cybotron,
Minnie Riperton,
Jacob Miller,
Darondo,
Black Flag,
Chris Corsano,
cv313,
Minny Pops,
MDC,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.