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 Uruguay and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 mellotron 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 Harry Pussy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Alton Ellis,
Tubeway Army,
the Slits,
Lucky Dragons,
Joe Smooth,
Michelle Simonal,
Chris & Cosey,
A Certain Ratio,
Peter and Kerry,
Vladislav Delay,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Glenn Branca,
Shuggie Otis,
The Leaves,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nick Fraelich,
The Slits,
The Divine Comedy,
Alphaville,
The Knickerbockers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Echospace,
Pet Shop Boys,
Masters at Work,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Interpol,
Joey Negro,
Eddi Front,
The Residents,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Model 500,
Eric Copeland,
Gong,
Gastr Del Sol,
Brothers Johnson,
Girls At Our Best!,
R.M.O.,
Frankie Knuckles,
Warsaw,
Rosa Yemen,
Mantronix,
Lindisfarne,
The J.B.'s,
Kayak,
Khruangbin,
Ohio Players,
Smog,
Black Moon,
Sex Pistols,
Television Personalities,
Talk Talk,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bobby Sherman,
Thompson Twins,
Los Fastidios,
Infiniti,
Sarah Menescal,
Gregory Isaacs,
K-Klass,
DJ Style,
Jacques Brel,
Bootsy Collins,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.