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 Honduras and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Yellowson to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
The Grass Roots,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scott Walker,
The Searchers,
Eric Copeland,
Eurythmics,
The Remains,
Crime,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Stooges,
Barclay James Harvest,
Josef K,
Tres Demented,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barry Ungar,
Sugar Minott,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Monks,
Pagans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fad Gadget,
The Human League,
Theoretical Girls,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
R.M.O.,
Bad Manners,
Adolescents,
The United States of America,
Mandrill,
Quadrant,
Max Romeo,
Bill Wells,
Alice Coltrane,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
L. Decosne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fat Boys,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Public Image Ltd.,
Matthew Halsall,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kas Product,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Michelle Simonal,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scrapy,
Marc Almond,
X-Ray Spex,
Rotary Connection,
Anakelly,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Radiohead,
The Young Rascals,
the Human League,
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Clarke,
kango's stein massive,
Cybotron,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.