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 Senegal and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Darondo to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Doors. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Crooked Eye 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?
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Remains,
The Fortunes,
Cheater Slicks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Siglo XX,
MC5,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marc Almond,
Gang of Four,
Thee Headcoats,
Stetsasonic,
The Durutti Column,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minutemen,
Byron Stingily,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ossler,
Minnie Riperton,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Grass Roots,
Nation of Ulysses,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Blancmange,
Public Image Ltd.,
Harpers Bizarre,
OOIOO,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Normal,
Al Stewart,
Gil Scott Heron,
Funkadelic,
Prince Buster,
Organ,
Stereo Dub,
Angry Samoans,
Joe Smooth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Monks,
Skarface,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Los Fastidios,
Mad Mike,
Black Pus,
The Black Dice,
Howard Jones,
Jawbox,
Saccharine Trust,
Lalann,
The Gap Band,
Suicide,
EPMD,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ten City,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Derrick Morgan,
Pierre Henry,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.