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 Nigeria and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 808 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 Cheater Slicks to the electroclash 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
a-ha,
Accadde A,
Saccharine Trust,
Roxy Music,
Young Marble Giants,
Arcadia,
The Barracudas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Buzzcocks,
Negative Approach,
Sex Pistols,
Ohio Players,
Dark Day,
the Normal,
The Detroit Cobras,
Yusef Lateef,
Scan 7,
Dead Boys,
The Gories,
Excepter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Second Layer,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Grauzone,
Gang of Four,
Animal Collective,
Soulsonic Force,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crooked Eye,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Livin' Joy,
Brothers Johnson,
Rufus Thomas,
Icehouse,
AZ,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Khruangbin,
Harry Pussy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Matthew Bourne,
The Monks,
Spandau Ballet,
DJ Style,
Sun City Girls,
Funky Four + One,
Boredoms,
Marc Almond,
New York Dolls,
cv313,
The Moleskins,
Jacques Brel,
Minny Pops,
Tears for Fears,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Wally Richardson,
Fatback Band,
F. McDonald,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.