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 Andorra and from Taipei.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 theremin 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 Scratch Acid to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
FM Einheit,
Negative Approach,
Desert Stars,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crime,
Gichy Dan,
Unrelated Segments,
Flamin' Groovies,
Flipper,
Masters at Work,
Sam Rivers,
Kenny Larkin,
Pole,
Juan Atkins,
Can,
Von Mondo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ten City,
Jandek,
Nils Olav,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Red Krayola,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Niagra,
The Standells,
the Soft Cell,
Easy Going,
Alphaville,
Faust,
These Immortal Souls,
Glenn Branca,
Camouflage,
Kerri Chandler,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rosa Yemen,
The Real Kids,
The Fire Engines,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Zero Boys,
Sound Behaviour,
Pantaleimon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fluxion,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
June Days,
Man Eating Sloth,
Liliput,
KRS-One,
Letta Mbulu,
Country Teasers,
Suicide,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Skarface,
Shoche,
The Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.