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 Barbados and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Roger Hodgson to the electroclash 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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Move,
Peter and Kerry,
The Alarm Clocks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Invisible,
Lower 48,
Godley & Creme,
Stiv Bators,
Rotary Connection,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scratch Acid,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minutemen,
Loose Ends,
Laurel Aitken,
Con Funk Shun,
EPMD,
AZ,
Kenny Larkin,
Roxy Music,
Angry Samoans,
The Busters,
Harry Pussy,
Intrusion,
Bill Wells,
Scientists,
Suicide,
Stetsasonic,
Goldenarms,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Brass Construction,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Grandmaster Flash,
Liliput,
Davy DMX,
Soft Cell,
Bush Tetras,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tears for Fears,
Marvin Gaye,
R.M.O.,
Jimmy McGriff,
a-ha,
The Blackbyrds,
Main Source,
La Düsseldorf,
The Searchers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fortunes,
Television,
Adolescents,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Cramps,
The Fall,
Nico,
Quando Quango,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.