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 Ethiopia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin 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 Pantytec to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Ralphi Rosario,
Glenn Branca,
Roxy Music,
Harry Pussy,
kango's stein massive,
Quantec,
Magazine,
Roger Hodgson,
Gichy Dan,
the Fania All-Stars,
AZ,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mandrill,
Electric Prunes,
T. Rex,
Angry Samoans,
DJ Style,
Tropical Tobacco,
Q and Not U,
The Busters,
X-102,
Throbbing Gristle,
Franke,
The Cowsills,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Heaven 17,
Anakelly,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wasted Youth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pharoah Sanders,
One Last Wish,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Moby Grape,
Aaron Thompson,
The Black Dice,
The Cramps,
The Saints,
Symarip,
Swans,
Dark Day,
Minny Pops,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
D'Angelo,
Tres Demented,
Matthew Bourne,
Tomorrow,
Lower 48,
U.S. Maple,
Black Bananas,
Ten City,
Shuggie Otis,
Pantytec,
Chris & Cosey,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Gories,
Lungfish,
Fat Boys,
Black Moon,
Duran Duran,
Goldenarms,
Minnie Riperton,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.