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 Nepal and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Oblivians to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord 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 Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
UT,
Shoche,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tears for Fears,
Bizarre Inc.,
Accadde A,
Animal Collective,
Ten City,
Grey Daturas,
Joyce Sims,
Lucky Dragons,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eden Ahbez,
Quadrant,
Zapp,
Letta Mbulu,
Tommy Roe,
Crooked Eye,
The J.B.'s,
The Move,
Andrew Hill,
Jacob Miller,
John Lydon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Mummies,
Crispian St. Peters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pulsallama,
The Velvet Underground,
The Knickerbockers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mr. Review,
Ice-T,
Ponytail,
Bluetip,
Goldenarms,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Curtis Mayfield,
Oblivians,
The Raincoats,
Rakim,
The Real Kids,
The Slackers,
Pylon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Al Stewart,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
T.S.O.L.,
Gichy Dan,
Lyres,
Magma,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Matthew Bourne,
Minutemen,
Average White Band,
Tres Demented,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Neon Judgement,
Subhumans,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.