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 Turkmenistan and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo 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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
DNA,
Frankie Knuckles,
Godley & Creme,
Zero Boys,
The Fortunes,
Cymande,
Pere Ubu,
Intrusion,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
The Smiths,
Underground Resistance,
Yellowson,
Pantaleimon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
New Age Steppers,
Marc Almond,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Red Krayola,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mission of Burma,
Gabor Szabo,
Babytalk,
Stiv Bators,
Wire,
Todd Rundgren,
Cecil Taylor,
Radiopuhelimet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Peter & Gordon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Gap Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Charles Mingus,
Los Fastidios,
Flash Fearless,
Cheater Slicks,
T. Rex,
the Slits,
Technova,
Amon Düül,
Bang On A Can,
JFA,
Icehouse,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rites of Spring,
E-Dancer,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Arthur Verocai,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Happenings,
Suburban Knight,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marmalade,
R.M.O.,
Michelle Simonal,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.