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 Tajikistan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Sao Paulo.
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 mellotron 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 Inner City to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
The Misunderstood,
Robert Wyatt,
Lightning Bolt,
Cecil Taylor,
The Mojo Men,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ten City,
Chris Corsano,
The Fuzztones,
Mars,
Public Image Ltd.,
Khruangbin,
Steve Hackett,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jacques Brel,
Brothers Johnson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Absolute Body Control,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gabor Szabo,
Deakin,
Fluxion,
Letta Mbulu,
Arthur Verocai,
Tommy Roe,
Sister Nancy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Walker Brothers,
Bluetip,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sound,
Soft Machine,
Crime,
The Raincoats,
Newcleus,
Hoover,
LL Cool J,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Al Stewart,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alton Ellis,
Parry Music,
The Music Machine,
Bill Wells,
X-Ray Spex,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Bananas,
Wire,
Lou Reed,
Marc Almond,
Robert Görl,
Nas,
The Wake,
Rapeman,
Zapp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Smiths,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Main Source,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.