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 Kenya and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 808 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 Marshall Jefferson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Maleditus Sound,
Newcleus,
John Holt,
Kurtis Blow,
Camouflage,
Deakin,
Unrelated Segments,
Grauzone,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Pus,
Pet Shop Boys,
Slave,
Brick,
Masters at Work,
Magazine,
10cc,
T. Rex,
Terry Callier,
Todd Rundgren,
the Association,
Hot Snakes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Juan Atkins,
Aswad,
Amon Düül II,
Cymande,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Bananas,
Anakelly,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mandrill,
Tim Buckley,
Babytalk,
Yusef Lateef,
The Doors,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Slackers,
Dark Day,
Procol Harum,
Cabaret Voltaire,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pierre Henry,
Absolute Body Control,
Drexciya,
The Mojo Men,
Depeche Mode,
Letta Mbulu,
Ponytail,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eurythmics,
Electric Prunes,
Ten City,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Searchers,
Glenn Branca,
The Star Department,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eric B and Rakim,
Steve Hackett,
Lightning Bolt,
X-102,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.