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 Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 Bill Wells 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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Hot Snakes,
The United States of America,
Sandy B,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Royal Trux,
Jacob Miller,
The Red Krayola,
Altered Images,
The Seeds,
Dawn Penn,
Derrick Morgan,
Brass Construction,
F. McDonald,
Terry Callier,
Buzzcocks,
48th St. Collective,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Masters at Work,
Little Man,
John Lydon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Donny Hathaway,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Womack,
Lightning Bolt,
Inner City,
Eric Copeland,
The Last Poets,
Camouflage,
Monolake,
H. Thieme,
Television,
Darondo,
Model 500,
Mandrill,
Soft Machine,
Wasted Youth,
Khruangbin,
Jerry's Kids,
Sex Pistols,
Chris & Cosey,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Drexciya,
Oblivians,
Depeche Mode,
kango's stein massive,
Mr. Review,
The Smiths,
Junior Murvin,
Arab on Radar,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Monks,
Simply Red,
Radio Birdman,
This Heat,
The Star Department,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Adolescents,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.