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 Ethiopia and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Godley & Creme to the funk 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Pantaleimon,
Scion,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Victims,
Harpers Bizarre,
Moss Icon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Buckinghams,
The Gladiators,
Roger Hodgson,
Ohio Players,
Interpol,
Mandrill,
Pole,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Urselle,
Davy DMX,
The Velvet Underground,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Barracudas,
Johnny Clarke,
Pierre Henry,
John Lydon,
Gichy Dan,
The Zeros,
F. McDonald,
Joensuu 1685,
Pere Ubu,
Model 500,
Banda Bassotti,
Robert Hood,
Camouflage,
Suicide,
Avey Tare,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ice-T,
UT,
KRS-One,
Erykah Badu,
Basic Channel,
Alice Coltrane,
Sight & Sound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rites of Spring,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
MC5,
Grey Daturas,
Warren Ellis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Accadde A,
The Gories,
Reagan Youth,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Music Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eyeless In Gaza,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.