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 Comoros and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 T. Rex to the techno 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Scrapy,
The Slackers,
UT,
Surgeon,
Crime,
Technova,
The Human League,
Infiniti,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Toni Rubio,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Anakelly,
Lower 48,
The Gun Club,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yaz,
Circle Jerks,
Nico,
The Victims,
The Vogues,
This Heat,
Howard Jones,
The Blues Magoos,
Skarface,
Lakeside,
Oblivians,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
10cc,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ken Boothe,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Leaves,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Byrd,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Last Poets,
Yusef Lateef,
Bizarre Inc.,
Swell Maps,
Zapp,
The Zeros,
Yellowson,
The Saints,
Con Funk Shun,
Ponytail,
Rod Modell,
Vainqueur,
Grauzone,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joensuu 1685,
The Names,
Model 500,
Sarah Menescal,
Jandek,
Niagra,
The Litter,
David Axelrod,
Alice Coltrane,
Kool Moe Dee,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.