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 San Marino and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Robert Wyatt to the disco 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Trumans Water,
Icehouse,
Grey Daturas,
The Golliwogs,
Marvin Gaye,
Scion,
Parry Music,
Archie Shepp,
Barrington Levy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Slave,
Panda Bear,
Mars,
Neil Young,
Jacob Miller,
Donald Byrd,
Nils Olav,
Popol Vuh,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Juan Atkins,
The Motions,
The Misunderstood,
Sarah Menescal,
Ornette Coleman,
JFA,
New York Dolls,
Maleditus Sound,
The Angels of Light,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aural Exciters,
The Sonics,
Joyce Sims,
The Slackers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Stooges,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sun Ra,
Nick Fraelich,
Susan Cadogan,
Boredoms,
Idris Muhammad,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fuzztones,
Radiohead,
Au Pairs,
The Searchers,
Ponytail,
Harpers Bizarre,
Von Mondo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Moss Icon,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Lynne,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Trojans,
The Selecter,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.