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 Vanuatu and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ 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 Bush Tetras to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Terry Callier,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Knickerbockers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lindisfarne,
Althea and Donna,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Trumans Water,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Byrd,
The Motions,
Funky Four + One,
Heaven 17,
Royal Trux,
Andrew Hill,
Jeru the Damaja,
Saccharine Trust,
The Gladiators,
Vladislav Delay,
Bob Dylan,
Ultravox,
The Star Department,
Urselle,
The Toasters,
Archie Shepp,
The Five Americans,
John Foxx,
Bill Wells,
K-Klass,
Radio Birdman,
ABC,
Television,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Sisters of Mercy,
B.T. Express,
Reagan Youth,
CMW,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
World's Most,
Marine Girls,
The Grass Roots,
China Crisis,
Harmonia,
Barry Ungar,
Little Man,
Matthew Halsall,
Deadbeat,
Motorama,
Bad Manners,
Pole,
The Names,
Groovy Waters,
X-101,
Circle Jerks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
La Düsseldorf,
The Fortunes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.