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 Lithuania and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
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 organ 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 Rekid to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Isaac Hayes,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fire Engines,
The Mummies,
Don Cherry,
The Barracudas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sister Nancy,
Moss Icon,
Kas Product,
Harry Pussy,
Silicon Teens,
Tim Buckley,
Peter and Kerry,
Soft Machine,
Thompson Twins,
Gabor Szabo,
UT,
The Searchers,
Rites of Spring,
The Velvet Underground,
Rufus Thomas,
Graham Central Station,
Kaleidoscope,
a-ha,
The Buckinghams,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Starr,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Vainqueur,
The Fuzztones,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cluster,
Hot Snakes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
D'Angelo,
Grauzone,
Amon Düül,
Gang of Four,
Wally Richardson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Junior Murvin,
Intrusion,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mr. Review,
Donny Hathaway,
Schoolly D,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bizarre Inc.,
Letta Mbulu,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Smiths,
U.S. Maple,
Todd Rundgren,
Echospace,
the Normal,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cybotron,
Albert Ayler,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.