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 Nauru and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Smog to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Junior Murvin,
Bauhaus,
This Heat,
Kaleidoscope,
Eddi Front,
Cameo,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tears for Fears,
David Bowie,
Brothers Johnson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pulsallama,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Johnny Clarke,
Tim Buckley,
Mars,
The Fuzztones,
Moss Icon,
Niagra,
Bill Near,
OOIOO,
Man Parrish,
The Misunderstood,
The Dead C,
Motorama,
Oneida,
Eden Ahbez,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Index,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
U.S. Maple,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gun Club,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roger Hodgson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Spoonie Gee,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Count Five,
Agitation Free,
Y Pants,
In Retrospect,
a-ha,
Ludus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Invisible,
Skarface,
Swans,
Altered Images,
Deakin,
Quadrant,
The Zeros,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.