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 Guyana and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Echospace to the crunk 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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kayak,
Supertramp,
Cameo,
Erykah Badu,
Warsaw,
Talk Talk,
Dead Boys,
Moss Icon,
Cecil Taylor,
Sugar Minott,
Marc Almond,
Index,
Tim Buckley,
Echospace,
Frankie Knuckles,
Y Pants,
Ohio Players,
Kerri Chandler,
Swans,
Jeff Lynne,
Drive Like Jehu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Terry Callier,
the Association,
Bang On A Can,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brick,
Eric Dolphy,
Magazine,
The Gun Club,
H. Thieme,
Urselle,
The Moleskins,
Alice Coltrane,
New Age Steppers,
Fugazi,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marine Girls,
The Smoke,
The Remains,
The Names,
Josef K,
Das Ding,
the Slits,
Jawbox,
Amon Düül,
The Smiths,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash,
Peter and Kerry,
Mark Hollis,
Freddie Wadling,
Kool Moe Dee,
The United States of America,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.