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 Kazakhstan and from Delhi.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eric Dolphy to the grunge 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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
The Gladiators,
Eddi Front,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Maleditus Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
Wolf Eyes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
48th St. Collective,
Smog,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Desert Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Faust,
Malaria!,
Television,
The Modern Lovers,
Echospace,
The Stooges,
Mars,
Ultravox,
Metal Thangz,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Cure,
Bang On A Can,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cowsills,
Kerri Chandler,
Dennis Brown,
The Sonics,
The New Christs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Saccharine Trust,
Ossler,
Minnie Riperton,
Althea and Donna,
The Doors,
The Tremeloes,
The Monochrome Set,
Public Enemy,
Public Image Ltd.,
a-ha,
Hasil Adkins,
Blossom Toes,
8 Eyed Spy,
R.M.O.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Charles Mingus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Albert Ayler,
The Fortunes,
Altered Images,
Popol Vuh,
Funkadelic,
The Selecter,
Carl Craig,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.