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 Ghana and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
The J.B.'s,
The Fugs,
Siglo XX,
Model 500,
Rod Modell,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Angels of Light,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tom Boy,
Funkadelic,
Pantytec,
The Residents,
Niagra,
John Cale,
Rufus Thomas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Barrington Levy,
Radiohead,
The Martian,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pierre Henry,
UT,
Interpol,
Royal Trux,
Zapp,
Can,
Tres Demented,
Lyres,
Matthew Bourne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Skaos,
Brothers Johnson,
Jacob Miller,
Essential Logic,
Sandy B,
ABC,
DJ Style,
The Fall,
Colin Newman,
Scion,
Faraquet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
the Slits,
Masters at Work,
The Music Machine,
Massinfluence,
Scratch Acid,
Das Ding,
Bad Manners,
Suburban Knight,
Fad Gadget,
Von Mondo,
Smog,
Supertramp,
kango's stein massive,
Laurel Aitken,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.