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 Finland and from Edmonton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare 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 Make Up to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Desert Stars,
Lalo Schifrin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gong,
Fort Wilson Riot,
David Axelrod,
Joey Negro,
Motorama,
Maleditus Sound,
Joy Division,
cv313,
Roxette,
Danielle Patucci,
The Sound,
Radiohead,
Black Moon,
Todd Rundgren,
Rapeman,
K-Klass,
Funky Four + One,
Avey Tare,
The Gories,
Radio Birdman,
Patti Smith,
Gabor Szabo,
Joyce Sims,
Bob Dylan,
Isaac Hayes,
Sun Ra,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ultra Naté,
Kayak,
Chrome,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Icehouse,
The Happenings,
Porter Ricks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eddi Front,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
EPMD,
Jerry's Kids,
The Techniques,
Derrick Morgan,
ABC,
Agitation Free,
Moebius,
The Standells,
The Last Poets,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobby Womack,
The Electric Prunes,
Matthew Bourne,
Prince Buster,
Hot Snakes,
Television Personalities,
Cheater Slicks,
The Barracudas,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.