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 Tuvalu and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
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 marimba 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 Franke to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Moon,
Scrapy,
the Sonics,
Kenny Larkin,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Byrd,
The Sound,
Parry Music,
The Names,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Soft Machine,
Lindisfarne,
The Divine Comedy,
Piero Umiliani,
The Seeds,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mr. Review,
Basic Channel,
Motorama,
Alphaville,
Idris Muhammad,
Eric Copeland,
Sugar Minott,
R.M.O.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Livin' Joy,
The Wake,
Deepchord,
Moss Icon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Birthday Party,
Brick,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camouflage,
Wolf Eyes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
H. Thieme,
Visage,
The Selecter,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Groovy Waters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nico,
L. Decosne,
Sun City Girls,
Letta Mbulu,
kango's stein massive,
Joe Smooth,
Rosa Yemen,
Josef K,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Outsiders,
Tomorrow,
Thee Headcoats,
Shoche,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.