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 Armenia and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Robert Palmer 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 MDC to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wolf Eyes,
Oneida,
Das Ding,
Skriet,
Buzzcocks,
X-Ray Spex,
Nick Fraelich,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grauzone,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fugs,
The Star Department,
Matthew Halsall,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jimmy McGriff,
Television Personalities,
Rites of Spring,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rakim,
Porter Ricks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jeru the Damaja,
Byron Stingily,
Zapp,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Traffic Nightmare,
F. McDonald,
Technova,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kurtis Blow,
Livin' Joy,
Trumans Water,
Bauhaus,
Matthew Bourne,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Soft Cell,
Parry Music,
Dave Gahan,
Barrington Levy,
Sugar Minott,
The Martian,
James Chance & The Contortions,
JFA,
Outsiders,
Ultra Naté,
Sex Pistols,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minny Pops,
Yusef Lateef,
Man Eating Sloth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Happenings,
Newcleus,
Ten City,
Darondo,
The Vogues,
The Golliwogs,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.