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 Vietnam and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 David Bowie 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 Zapp to the dance 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
The Leaves,
Wolf Eyes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jacques Brel,
Los Fastidios,
Guru Guru,
Ossler,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Association,
Grey Daturas,
Das Ding,
The Dirtbombs,
H. Thieme,
Nick Fraelich,
Icehouse,
Barclay James Harvest,
Drive Like Jehu,
UT,
Kerri Chandler,
Davy DMX,
Niagra,
Charles Mingus,
Black Pus,
Average White Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Agent Orange,
Eden Ahbez,
Hoover,
Crash Course in Science,
The Tremeloes,
Faust,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Byrd,
Nils Olav,
the Swans,
New York Dolls,
La Düsseldorf,
Aural Exciters,
The Modern Lovers,
Skaos,
Ronan,
David Bowie,
Minnie Riperton,
Sister Nancy,
Scrapy,
the Sonics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marmalade,
The Fire Engines,
Chris & Cosey,
Stiv Bators,
T. Rex,
The Red Krayola,
Jerry's Kids,
cv313,
Mary Jane Girls,
Easy Going,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.