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 Kazakhstan and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe 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 Mr. Review to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minny Pops,
Masters at Work,
Bob Dylan,
The Remains,
Scott Walker,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
H. Thieme,
Youth Brigade,
Erykah Badu,
Don Cherry,
Flash Fearless,
Magma,
The Happenings,
Kerri Chandler,
Tommy Roe,
R.M.O.,
OOIOO,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ohio Players,
the Association,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lower 48,
Jacob Miller,
Bush Tetras,
Crooked Eye,
Subhumans,
F. McDonald,
Amazonics,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sparks,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Saints,
The Mummies,
Yaz,
Sun City Girls,
Fela Kuti,
Dorothy Ashby,
Audionom,
Oblivians,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Colin Newman,
June of 44,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Reagan Youth,
Unrelated Segments,
Television,
Section 25,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Althea and Donna,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fall,
The Offenders,
Slave,
Vladislav Delay,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.