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 Seychelles and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
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 Donald Fagen 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 Count Five to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Simply Red,
The Doors,
Traffic Nightmare,
Grauzone,
Soulsonic Force,
The Smiths,
Von Mondo,
The Golliwogs,
Peter and Kerry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eurythmics,
Altered Images,
Black Sheep,
Outsiders,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Junior Murvin,
Radio Birdman,
F. McDonald,
Pylon,
Roger Hodgson,
X-102,
Mr. Review,
Sly & The Family Stone,
T. Rex,
Adolescents,
the Fania All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lightning Bolt,
Max Romeo,
Henry Cow,
Freddie Wadling,
Massinfluence,
Robert Hood,
Lower 48,
10cc,
The Walker Brothers,
Josef K,
New Age Steppers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Procol Harum,
Marshall Jefferson,
John Coltrane,
The Toasters,
The Electric Prunes,
Crash Course in Science,
Fad Gadget,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Juan Atkins,
Funkadelic,
PIL,
Dual Sessions,
Graham Central Station,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Amazonics,
One Last Wish,
Hardrive,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kurtis Blow,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.