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 Dominica and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 arpeggiator 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 Radio Birdman to the punk 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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
The Blues Magoos,
Kenny Larkin,
Gabor Szabo,
Fat Boys,
Anthony Braxton,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Raincoats,
Motorama,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kool Moe Dee,
Black Flag,
The Beau Brummels,
Prince Buster,
Porter Ricks,
Bad Manners,
The Pop Group,
Massinfluence,
Mary Jane Girls,
Yazoo,
Animal Collective,
Dual Sessions,
Wasted Youth,
Eric B and Rakim,
Organ,
The Cowsills,
Tomorrow,
Trumans Water,
The Angels of Light,
Kaleidoscope,
Hasil Adkins,
Section 25,
Cal Tjader,
X-Ray Spex,
Slick Rick,
John Cale,
Grauzone,
John Foxx,
Fear,
Sixth Finger,
Joensuu 1685,
Nils Olav,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Janne Schatter,
Pantaleimon,
Magma,
David Axelrod,
The Sound,
Faust,
Reagan Youth,
Cameo,
Eddi Front,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kayak,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Moby Grape,
Scott Walker,
Howard Jones,
Derrick May,
Bobby Sherman,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.