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 China and from Beijing.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Brand Nubian to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Massinfluence record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Letta Mbulu,
The Motions,
Harmonia,
48th St. Collective,
The Associates,
In Retrospect,
U.S. Maple,
Toni Rubio,
Camberwell Now,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Flag,
Marine Girls,
The Gories,
Electric Prunes,
Rites of Spring,
Thee Headcoats,
Don Cherry,
Max Romeo,
Hoover,
The Moody Blues,
Grey Daturas,
Chrome,
The Count Five,
The Gap Band,
Flash Fearless,
The American Breed,
New York Dolls,
Robert Görl,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang Starr,
Cluster,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pagans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Michelle Simonal,
Rufus Thomas,
MC5,
Suburban Knight,
Stiv Bators,
James White and The Blacks,
Intrusion,
The Star Department,
Scan 7,
Swans,
Negative Approach,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cecil Taylor,
The Walker Brothers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Alarm Clocks,
Amazonics,
Soulsonic Force,
Alphaville,
X-102,
Eddi Front,
Jawbox,
Reuben Wilson,
Boz Scaggs,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.