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 Afghanistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Gun Club to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Sex Pistols,
Absolute Body Control,
Radio Birdman,
Masters at Work,
Goldenarms,
Iggy Pop,
Rotary Connection,
Agent Orange,
The Mojo Men,
Eric Copeland,
Kerri Chandler,
Marcia Griffiths,
Arab on Radar,
Al Stewart,
Rufus Thomas,
the Germs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grauzone,
Thee Headcoats,
The American Breed,
Joe Smooth,
Lucky Dragons,
Joyce Sims,
Blancmange,
Josef K,
Hoover,
Dawn Penn,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Trumans Water,
Dave Gahan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
K-Klass,
The Angels of Light,
Gichy Dan,
Isaac Hayes,
Warsaw,
Vladislav Delay,
Ludus,
Magazine,
Tears for Fears,
Pantytec,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
D'Angelo,
Lakeside,
Scratch Acid,
The Velvet Underground,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Metal Thangz,
Zero Boys,
Simply Red,
KRS-One,
FM Einheit,
Grey Daturas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Los Fastidios,
Pierre Henry,
Monolake,
Crispian St. Peters,
Thompson Twins,
Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic.
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.