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 Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Smog to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Freddie Wadling,
The Golliwogs,
Godley & Creme,
Joe Finger,
Connie Case,
The Sonics,
Saccharine Trust,
Alice Coltrane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Easy Going,
Q and Not U,
Camberwell Now,
Robert Hood,
The Durutti Column,
Nick Fraelich,
X-102,
The Blackbyrds,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fuzztones,
Magazine,
Sällskapet,
The Birthday Party,
The Martian,
The Misunderstood,
Electric Prunes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Selecter,
Tears for Fears,
Moss Icon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Zapp,
Vladislav Delay,
The Grass Roots,
E-Dancer,
June of 44,
Black Sheep,
The Doors,
Stereo Dub,
Babytalk,
Agent Orange,
Skaos,
The Pop Group,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mo-Dettes,
Sight & Sound,
Desert Stars,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Accadde A,
T. Rex,
Radio Birdman,
10cc,
John Foxx,
Gastr Del Sol,
Procol Harum,
MC5,
Gabor Szabo,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.