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 Albania and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator 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 The Index to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jacob Miller,
Index,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yazoo,
Graham Central Station,
Grey Daturas,
Terry Callier,
Mandrill,
A Certain Ratio,
The Doors,
Camouflage,
Lou Reed,
Severed Heads,
Rufus Thomas,
Con Funk Shun,
Nas,
Cybotron,
The Moody Blues,
Letta Mbulu,
Camberwell Now,
Boogie Down Productions,
Surgeon,
Bobby Womack,
Black Pus,
Von Mondo,
Donald Byrd,
Quando Quango,
Little Man,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Absolute Body Control,
Bauhaus,
The Saints,
Parry Music,
The Tremeloes,
Pole,
Mars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Martian,
Sixth Finger,
The Blues Magoos,
Joyce Sims,
The Velvet Underground,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Foxx,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Q65,
Kevin Saunderson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Skaos,
Audionom,
Duran Duran,
The Electric Prunes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.