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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Glasgow.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Boz Scaggs to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
the Soft Cell,
Skriet,
Brand Nubian,
Yazoo,
Robert Hood,
The Dead C,
Prince Buster,
Popol Vuh,
Bootsy Collins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bush Tetras,
Porter Ricks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joy Division,
The Dirtbombs,
Harmonia,
Lyres,
Rotary Connection,
Japan,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gun Club,
Basic Channel,
Sparks,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soft Cell,
The Birthday Party,
X-Ray Spex,
Freddie Wadling,
Arthur Verocai,
Kenny Larkin,
F. McDonald,
The Raincoats,
Anthony Braxton,
Todd Terry,
The Monks,
Magma,
James White and The Blacks,
Todd Rundgren,
Dark Day,
Accadde A,
Faust,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Gladiators,
Pere Ubu,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Byrd,
Sun City Girls,
Shuggie Otis,
Glenn Branca,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rod Modell,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.