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 Vanuatu and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the punk 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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Unwound,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Agitation Free,
Joensuu 1685,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sister Nancy,
Duran Duran,
Rosa Yemen,
Electric Prunes,
Marvin Gaye,
Loose Ends,
June Days,
Joe Finger,
Eurythmics,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minnie Riperton,
8 Eyed Spy,
48th St. Collective,
Mandrill,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Warren Ellis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Thee Headcoats,
Sarah Menescal,
The Music Machine,
New York Dolls,
Banda Bassotti,
Lucky Dragons,
the Soft Cell,
Hashim,
Slick Rick,
Nirvana,
Camouflage,
Agent Orange,
Lakeside,
Traffic Nightmare,
Accadde A,
Judy Mowatt,
Mr. Review,
Surgeon,
Circle Jerks,
Monolake,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Normal,
Parry Music,
The Sound,
John Coltrane,
Mars,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kevin Saunderson,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ice-T,
The United States of America,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Wake,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.