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 Hungary and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Madrid.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scientists to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
T.S.O.L.,
Wire,
The Flesh Eaters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soul II Soul,
Vladislav Delay,
Max Romeo,
June Days,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Peter and Kerry,
The Sound,
The United States of America,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minor Threat,
Delon & Dalcan,
Country Teasers,
Sugar Minott,
Bush Tetras,
Pantaleimon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roger Hodgson,
Masters at Work,
Cymande,
Clear Light,
Model 500,
James White and The Blacks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brothers Johnson,
Barry Ungar,
Nation of Ulysses,
David Axelrod,
Accadde A,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fortunes,
Banda Bassotti,
Alice Coltrane,
Pulsallama,
Sam Rivers,
Radio Birdman,
Severed Heads,
Sex Pistols,
Alton Ellis,
Lalann,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tom Boy,
Josef K,
The Cure,
Tim Buckley,
Mars,
Crime,
Audionom,
The J.B.'s,
Ponytail,
Gichy Dan,
Newcleus,
The Blackbyrds,
Gabor Szabo,
48th St. Collective,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.