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 San Marino and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 DJ Style to the grime 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
T.S.O.L.,
Johnny Clarke,
Trumans Water,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Index,
Gichy Dan,
Duran Duran,
Joyce Sims,
D'Angelo,
Average White Band,
Ponytail,
Thee Headcoats,
Sun Ra,
Mo-Dettes,
Camberwell Now,
Rosa Yemen,
The Mojo Men,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kas Product,
The Doors,
The Names,
June of 44,
Black Pus,
Pantytec,
The American Breed,
Eli Mardock,
The Fortunes,
La Düsseldorf,
Sound Behaviour,
F. McDonald,
Kayak,
X-Ray Spex,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Parry Music,
Soft Machine,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Angels of Light,
Skarface,
Gabor Szabo,
the Sonics,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rufus Thomas,
Jeff Mills,
Deadbeat,
Los Fastidios,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Robert Hood,
Popol Vuh,
Organ,
Brick,
Minor Threat,
Severed Heads,
Isaac Hayes,
Deakin,
The Dirtbombs,
The Velvet Underground,
The Flesh Eaters,
New Age Steppers,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.