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 Fiji and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Moss Icon to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Skriet,
Bad Manners,
Terry Callier,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sonny Sharrock,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Camberwell Now,
Heaven 17,
Derrick May,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cal Tjader,
The Pretty Things,
The Smiths,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jacques Brel,
Ituana,
Hot Snakes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roxy Music,
Mr. Review,
Eli Mardock,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Happenings,
Rotary Connection,
Sight & Sound,
Traffic Nightmare,
Shuggie Otis,
Sex Pistols,
The Smoke,
Cheater Slicks,
Shoche,
The Selecter,
Cluster,
Blossom Toes,
Gichy Dan,
Scion,
Connie Case,
Television Personalities,
Yazoo,
Peter & Gordon,
Nick Fraelich,
Agitation Free,
Aaron Thompson,
Graham Central Station,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Judy Mowatt,
The Saints,
Parry Music,
The Electric Prunes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Barrington Levy,
Bobby Sherman,
Marvin Gaye,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The American Breed,
The Knickerbockers,
Mission of Burma,
Siglo XX,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.