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 Macedonia and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 rhodes 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 Lower 48 to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Crash Course in Science,
Tim Buckley,
the Soft Cell,
Television Personalities,
Nik Kershaw,
Gang Gang Dance,
James White and The Blacks,
Schoolly D,
Sex Pistols,
Nirvana,
Scott Walker,
Sonic Youth,
Fela Kuti,
Peter & Gordon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Second Layer,
Cybotron,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kool Moe Dee,
Black Flag,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rhythm & Sound,
Chrome,
The Gap Band,
Boredoms,
Young Marble Giants,
Moby Grape,
Livin' Joy,
The Invisible,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Cure,
Neu!,
Ken Boothe,
Gichy Dan,
The Golliwogs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Boz Scaggs,
The Sonics,
Spoonie Gee,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mo-Dettes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Groovy Waters,
Al Stewart,
La Düsseldorf,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jacques Brel,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Flash Fearless,
Lower 48,
The Saints,
Fad Gadget,
Idris Muhammad,
Reuben Wilson,
Fatback Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Moon,
Hasil Adkins,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.