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 Singapore and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Boogie Down Productions to the grime 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scientists,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Deepchord,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
Monolake,
Hoover,
Joyce Sims,
Lou Christie,
The Sound,
Faust,
Half Japanese,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dawn Penn,
Kevin Saunderson,
Flipper,
Grey Daturas,
Albert Ayler,
Bootsy Collins,
E-Dancer,
The Searchers,
Rites of Spring,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Interpol,
Buzzcocks,
Zapp,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Tremeloes,
Bobby Byrd,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Blake Baxter,
Ituana,
Erykah Badu,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tom Boy,
Prince Buster,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Martian,
Dark Day,
The Beau Brummels,
The Associates,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pere Ubu,
Drive Like Jehu,
Yusef Lateef,
Angry Samoans,
Barry Ungar,
Sällskapet,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Freddie Wadling,
Banda Bassotti,
Juan Atkins,
Quantec,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Essential Logic,
The Wake,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.