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 United Kingdom and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 chamberlin 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 X-Ray Spex to the dance 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Jesus and Mary Chain record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Dave Gahan,
Heaven 17,
The Vogues,
The Sonics,
John Cale,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Pus,
Das Ding,
The Busters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Intrusion,
X-102,
Q and Not U,
Severed Heads,
Popol Vuh,
Avey Tare,
Donny Hathaway,
The Saints,
Johnny Clarke,
F. McDonald,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Anakelly,
Derrick May,
Aswad,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fire Engines,
Minor Threat,
Joey Negro,
Agent Orange,
The Music Machine,
Todd Rundgren,
Sun City Girls,
Reuben Wilson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Infiniti,
The Techniques,
DNA,
Leonard Cohen,
Fluxion,
Lungfish,
Ken Boothe,
Funkadelic,
Jacques Brel,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lucky Dragons,
X-101,
Blossom Toes,
ABC,
Lower 48,
Jeff Mills,
Tubeway Army,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ronnie Foster,
Judy Mowatt,
Shoche,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Yusef Lateef,
Wire,
Laurel Aitken,
Ituana,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.