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 Cuba and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Flamin' Groovies to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Agitation Free,
Hashim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tropical Tobacco,
Terrestrial Tones,
Deadbeat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lindisfarne,
The Star Department,
Liliput,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Doors,
The Pretty Things,
Bizarre Inc.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Unwound,
Magazine,
Suicide,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Residents,
The Tremeloes,
John Holt,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
New Age Steppers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eric Copeland,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Severed Heads,
Smog,
Brand Nubian,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Letta Mbulu,
Cecil Taylor,
Kaleidoscope,
Depeche Mode,
The Durutti Column,
JFA,
T.S.O.L.,
Babytalk,
Jerry's Kids,
Sparks,
June of 44,
Johnny Clarke,
Sugar Minott,
Crime,
The Stooges,
Quando Quango,
Dennis Brown,
Public Enemy,
John Coltrane,
Skaos,
Au Pairs,
MC5,
Nas,
Das Ding,
Don Cherry,
Tommy Roe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rod Modell,
Heaven 17,
Soft Machine,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.