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 Togo and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Peter & Gordon 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Colin Newman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Altered Images,
The Standells,
Piero Umiliani,
Camouflage,
Don Cherry,
DNA,
Eric Dolphy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
a-ha,
Q and Not U,
The Moody Blues,
The Five Americans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ludus,
Ten City,
Pere Ubu,
John Cale,
Sixth Finger,
Interpol,
Blake Baxter,
Lakeside,
David Axelrod,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yellowson,
The Mojo Men,
Spandau Ballet,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jeff Mills,
Eve St. Jones,
Model 500,
Inner City,
Byron Stingily,
Stereo Dub,
Brand Nubian,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Delta 5,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mission of Burma,
The Modern Lovers,
Schoolly D,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Mummies,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Country Teasers,
Yazoo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Bar-Kays,
Brick,
June of 44,
The Red Krayola,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Flesh Eaters,
Idris Muhammad,
Gichy Dan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
R.M.O.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gong,
Thee Headcoats,
Erasure,
the Sonics,
Skarface,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.