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 Togo and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the grime 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Kas Product,
Franke,
Nils Olav,
Spoonie Gee,
Fela Kuti,
Kurtis Blow,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Leonard Cohen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Blackbyrds,
Aaron Thompson,
The Five Americans,
Skriet,
Colin Newman,
Bobby Sherman,
The J.B.'s,
Black Pus,
The Slackers,
Crash Course in Science,
Yazoo,
T.S.O.L.,
Saccharine Trust,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grauzone,
X-101,
Joe Smooth,
Babytalk,
Lungfish,
Swans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
DJ Style,
Moebius,
Bob Dylan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Surgeon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Outsiders,
Pulsallama,
Charles Mingus,
Sonic Youth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Japan,
Cameo,
Absolute Body Control,
Derrick May,
AZ,
The Smoke,
Prince Buster,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kerrie Biddell,
Procol Harum,
Newcleus,
Shoche,
Qualms,
Khruangbin,
Deadbeat,
Subhumans,
Stiv Bators,
Albert Ayler,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.