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 Niger and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Stetsasonic to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
The Angels of Light,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Blossom Toes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lucky Dragons,
Judy Mowatt,
Parry Music,
Alphaville,
The Associates,
Bobby Byrd,
The Slackers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gong,
Big Daddy Kane,
Loose Ends,
Skarface,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Cure,
Joy Division,
Siglo XX,
Sex Pistols,
Malaria!,
Little Man,
Minor Threat,
Cal Tjader,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eric Copeland,
Josef K,
Donald Byrd,
Sugar Minott,
Arab on Radar,
Funky Four + One,
Agitation Free,
Franke,
The Fugs,
Fad Gadget,
MDC,
The Electric Prunes,
Freddie Wadling,
Delta 5,
Howard Jones,
Babytalk,
Inner City,
Al Stewart,
Connie Case,
Wings,
Morten Harket,
Bootsy Collins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sun City Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Massinfluence,
UT,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
MC5,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lakeside,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.