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 Venezuela and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Surgeon to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
The Zeros,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Metal Thangz,
Tommy Roe,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lightning Bolt,
Tomorrow,
Crooked Eye,
The Music Machine,
Easy Going,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Grass Roots,
Wasted Youth,
Colin Newman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Thee Headcoats,
The Seeds,
The Busters,
Cybotron,
Todd Rundgren,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Joey Negro,
Andrew Hill,
Byron Stingily,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
FM Einheit,
Angry Samoans,
Ponytail,
Arab on Radar,
Pet Shop Boys,
Max Romeo,
Blossom Toes,
Roy Ayers,
kango's stein massive,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Trumans Water,
Sällskapet,
Agitation Free,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Model 500,
Mars,
The Gun Club,
John Coltrane,
Traffic Nightmare,
Amazonics,
The Smoke,
Cluster,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sun Ra,
Sandy B,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Matthew Bourne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Trojans,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun City Girls,
Ronan,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.