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 Honduras and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Velvet Underground to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Zeros,
DNA,
The Durutti Column,
Eurythmics,
The Saints,
The Dead C,
The Smoke,
Max Romeo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rhythm & Sound,
Soulsonic Force,
Aloha Tigers,
Godley & Creme,
Flipper,
Stockholm Monsters,
Basic Channel,
Interpol,
Spoonie Gee,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Intrusion,
Laurel Aitken,
Lucky Dragons,
Index,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sister Nancy,
The Residents,
Chrome,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Lydon,
Liliput,
Flamin' Groovies,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Gories,
James White and The Blacks,
Absolute Body Control,
Los Fastidios,
Lalann,
Peter & Gordon,
Bang On A Can,
The Stooges,
Arthur Verocai,
Yazoo,
Robert Görl,
Maurizio,
Young Marble Giants,
Rakim,
Circle Jerks,
Motorama,
Monolake,
Mantronix,
June Days,
Saccharine Trust,
Isaac Hayes,
Iggy Pop,
Von Mondo,
Danielle Patucci,
Goldenarms,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sonics,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.