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 Burundi and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Index to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gabor Szabo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rufus Thomas,
Cluster,
John Lydon,
Hoover,
Mr. Review,
Matthew Halsall,
Oblivians,
Con Funk Shun,
Ken Boothe,
Grey Daturas,
Cybotron,
Suburban Knight,
Susan Cadogan,
Godley & Creme,
the Association,
Aswad,
Television,
The Residents,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Supertramp,
Rotary Connection,
Brick,
Fear,
Blake Baxter,
Lyres,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joey Negro,
The Beau Brummels,
E-Dancer,
Pet Shop Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
Sarah Menescal,
Japan,
Cecil Taylor,
Letta Mbulu,
Scrapy,
The Toasters,
Hot Snakes,
AZ,
The Cure,
Freddie Wadling,
Youth Brigade,
Suicide,
The Buckinghams,
The Modern Lovers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aaron Thompson,
Zero Boys,
Motorama,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Bananas,
David Axelrod,
Groovy Waters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Litter,
Robert Görl,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crooked Eye,
Howard Jones,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.