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 Mongolia and from Edmonton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Clear Light to the punk 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Alice Coltrane,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Urselle,
Scion,
Adolescents,
Swans,
The Durutti Column,
Infiniti,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Velvet Underground,
Warsaw,
Minutemen,
Tim Buckley,
Deepchord,
Icehouse,
The Leaves,
Delta 5,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sparks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fad Gadget,
One Last Wish,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The American Breed,
the Germs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nirvana,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slave,
Harry Pussy,
Lalann,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Grandmaster Flash,
DJ Sneak,
The Barracudas,
Fear,
Pylon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dave Gahan,
Thompson Twins,
the Slits,
Nick Fraelich,
Zapp,
Basic Channel,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
UT,
Cal Tjader,
June of 44,
Fela Kuti,
The Detroit Cobras,
Stereo Dub,
John Coltrane,
Motorama,
The Remains,
In Retrospect,
Johnny Osbourne,
Outsiders,
Hot Snakes,
Stiv Bators,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.