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 Latvia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes 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 T. Rex to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Bill Wells,
Royal Trux,
Slave,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Busters,
New York Dolls,
Todd Rundgren,
The American Breed,
The Music Machine,
The Invisible,
Laurel Aitken,
Quadrant,
Funkadelic,
Mr. Review,
Soulsonic Force,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Martian,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
The Gories,
The Golliwogs,
Quantec,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Monks,
Shoche,
Mars,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Crash Course in Science,
cv313,
Infiniti,
The Searchers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
One Last Wish,
Zero Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Intrusion,
Ultra Naté,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Magazine,
The Last Poets,
48th St. Collective,
Alphaville,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Avey Tare,
Mad Mike,
The Doobie Brothers,
Al Stewart,
The Human League,
Brass Construction,
Fugazi,
The Cramps,
Scan 7,
Popol Vuh,
Barry Ungar,
Eden Ahbez,
Faraquet,
Gang Green,
The Doors,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.