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 Malawi and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 güiro 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 Nico to the disco 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Smog,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
OOIOO,
Index,
The Red Krayola,
Suburban Knight,
Jandek,
Kurtis Blow,
Blossom Toes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Cell,
Juan Atkins,
The Vogues,
Scan 7,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Altered Images,
D'Angelo,
the Normal,
Marmalade,
Half Japanese,
The United States of America,
Slave,
The Cramps,
Loose Ends,
The Black Dice,
The Toasters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mission of Burma,
Ponytail,
Laurel Aitken,
Dennis Brown,
Khruangbin,
Colin Newman,
The Gun Club,
The Gap Band,
Kayak,
Terry Callier,
The Offenders,
Stereo Dub,
Leonard Cohen,
Crime,
Ronnie Foster,
Suicide,
Marine Girls,
The Sound,
Bronski Beat,
T.S.O.L.,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rufus Thomas,
Funkadelic,
R.M.O.,
Japan,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Kenny Larkin,
Susan Cadogan,
Electric Prunes,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.