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 Romania and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar 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 Pussy Galore 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Clear Light,
Underground Resistance,
Babytalk,
Sarah Menescal,
Little Man,
Matthew Halsall,
Marshall Jefferson,
Judy Mowatt,
Scientists,
The Fortunes,
Pantaleimon,
The Durutti Column,
The Selecter,
Radiopuhelimet,
Easy Going,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Leaves,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pierre Henry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Blancmange,
Ronan,
the Slits,
Isaac Hayes,
Lower 48,
Boredoms,
Eric Dolphy,
Soft Machine,
Patti Smith,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tom Boy,
Dead Boys,
Anakelly,
Japan,
Tres Demented,
Rakim,
the Sonics,
Slave,
The Index,
Trumans Water,
The Names,
Al Stewart,
The United States of America,
Fatback Band,
The Cowsills,
Althea and Donna,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Girls At Our Best!,
Thompson Twins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Desert Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun City Girls,
Eddi Front,
Pylon,
Soul Sonic Force,
Magazine,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.