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 Taiwan and from Halifax.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Holger Czukay 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 Erykah Badu to the grunge 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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
These Immortal Souls,
Make Up,
Laurel Aitken,
Cheater Slicks,
The Slits,
Lower 48,
Fluxion,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Donny Hathaway,
Gong,
Loose Ends,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Popol Vuh,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Quantec,
The Doobie Brothers,
Smog,
Kaleidoscope,
Vladislav Delay,
Chris Corsano,
LL Cool J,
The Walker Brothers,
Main Source,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang of Four,
E-Dancer,
Charles Mingus,
Don Cherry,
Harmonia,
Flash Fearless,
Lakeside,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Urselle,
Donald Byrd,
DNA,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobby Byrd,
Hardrive,
Crash Course in Science,
Alison Limerick,
Fela Kuti,
Letta Mbulu,
The Detroit Cobras,
8 Eyed Spy,
X-101,
Country Teasers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Radiopuhelimet,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Monochrome Set,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Holt,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Television Personalities,
Eric Copeland,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joensuu 1685,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.