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 Ethiopia and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Remains to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Mission of Burma,
Niagra,
Don Cherry,
Unwound,
Eve St. Jones,
Sällskapet,
Pussy Galore,
China Crisis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Loose Ends,
Thompson Twins,
Moss Icon,
Procol Harum,
10cc,
Little Man,
Flipper,
Deakin,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Black Sheep,
Barclay James Harvest,
Johnny Osbourne,
Franke,
Vladislav Delay,
the Slits,
Crooked Eye,
A Certain Ratio,
The Doors,
Dual Sessions,
The Slits,
Reuben Wilson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Patti Smith,
The Velvet Underground,
The Toasters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fatback Band,
Mad Mike,
Black Flag,
Joe Finger,
Roxy Music,
Cheater Slicks,
The Victims,
The Gap Band,
Bronski Beat,
Andrew Hill,
Public Enemy,
Stetsasonic,
Archie Shepp,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fortunes,
Gichy Dan,
Cluster,
The Gories,
Circle Jerks,
Scientists,
Funky Four + One,
Michelle Simonal,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lucky Dragons,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.