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 East Timor and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Residents to the techno 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime 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?
The Walker Brothers,
Funky Four + One,
Camberwell Now,
Johnny Osbourne,
Vainqueur,
Country Teasers,
Fluxion,
Al Stewart,
Deadbeat,
Royal Trux,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sixth Finger,
The Red Krayola,
Lee Hazlewood,
Whodini,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Deakin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Angry Samoans,
Scion,
The J.B.'s,
Toni Rubio,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Swans,
Hoover,
Carl Craig,
The Doors,
Bootsy Collins,
Lucky Dragons,
The Electric Prunes,
Can,
Connie Case,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Vladislav Delay,
Lou Christie,
Skriet,
Public Image Ltd.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Skarface,
Glenn Branca,
Eddi Front,
June of 44,
The Dead C,
Gang Starr,
Bronski Beat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hot Snakes,
Sugar Minott,
Delta 5,
Alton Ellis,
Black Pus,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Misunderstood,
Cal Tjader,
Piero Umiliani,
Los Fastidios,
The Remains,
Wasted Youth,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.