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 Serbia and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Holger Czukay 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 Agent Orange to the techno 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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Babytalk,
Althea and Donna,
Crooked Eye,
Bobby Byrd,
Bob Dylan,
Hot Snakes,
Kerri Chandler,
New Age Steppers,
The Raincoats,
the Sonics,
Terry Callier,
Nico,
Rufus Thomas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Desert Stars,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Sneak,
The Cramps,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Technova,
John Cale,
Heaven 17,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Funkadelic,
Spoonie Gee,
Henry Cow,
Joey Negro,
Los Fastidios,
Scrapy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
JFA,
Neil Young,
Rakim,
cv313,
Von Mondo,
Joyce Sims,
Throbbing Gristle,
New Order,
LL Cool J,
The Monks,
The Smiths,
Mo-Dettes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sun Ra,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sam Rivers,
the Normal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Amazonics,
FM Einheit,
Jesper Dahlback,
Arcadia,
Yusef Lateef,
Agent Orange,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Germs,
Byron Stingily,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.