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 Mauritius and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Sarah Menescal to the rock 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Lungfish,
Blossom Toes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fugazi,
The Leaves,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Normal,
Soul II Soul,
Byron Stingily,
Sex Pistols,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Inner City,
The Fugs,
New York Dolls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Residents,
The Evens,
Alphaville,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fela Kuti,
Rufus Thomas,
Kas Product,
Derrick May,
Clear Light,
The Martian,
Smog,
Skaos,
The New Christs,
Scientists,
Joy Division,
Barry Ungar,
Livin' Joy,
Country Teasers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kaleidoscope,
Davy DMX,
New Order,
Rotary Connection,
Tom Boy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
ABC,
the Germs,
Josef K,
Eden Ahbez,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
OOIOO,
Nick Fraelich,
Cameo,
T.S.O.L.,
John Cale,
The Grass Roots,
The Walker Brothers,
Thompson Twins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Human League,
Matthew Halsall,
Banda Bassotti,
Rod Modell,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bush Tetras,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.