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 Norway and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Remains to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delon & Dalcan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Leonard Cohen,
Marmalade,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Pus,
The Names,
Supertramp,
Erykah Badu,
The Flesh Eaters,
Public Enemy,
Wire,
Charles Mingus,
A Certain Ratio,
Reuben Wilson,
Max Romeo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ice-T,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mary Jane Girls,
Yaz,
Yazoo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dorothy Ashby,
Matthew Halsall,
Todd Rundgren,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hashim,
Liliput,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Offenders,
Barrington Levy,
The Standells,
The Misunderstood,
Basic Channel,
Bad Manners,
Half Japanese,
The Doors,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
In Retrospect,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crispian St. Peters,
Guru Guru,
Dual Sessions,
The Velvet Underground,
Donny Hathaway,
The Grass Roots,
Alton Ellis,
Pere Ubu,
Wally Richardson,
Jacob Miller,
Cal Tjader,
Hot Snakes,
Moby Grape,
Roy Ayers,
John Cale,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fear,
Severed Heads,
Wasted Youth,
Jacques Brel,
Jimmy McGriff,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.