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 Greece and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lyon.
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 rhodes 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 The Smoke to the rock 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
The United States of America,
Sister Nancy,
Marvin Gaye,
DJ Style,
Bill Wells,
Von Mondo,
K-Klass,
Derrick May,
The Buckinghams,
Neu!,
The Blackbyrds,
Lightning Bolt,
The Electric Prunes,
Altered Images,
Basic Channel,
Nik Kershaw,
The Velvet Underground,
Metal Thangz,
China Crisis,
The Gap Band,
Donny Hathaway,
The Grass Roots,
Drexciya,
Todd Terry,
Young Marble Giants,
Subhumans,
Saccharine Trust,
Hasil Adkins,
DJ Sneak,
Clear Light,
Spandau Ballet,
The Last Poets,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Jacques Brel,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Wake,
Glenn Branca,
Ornette Coleman,
Isaac Hayes,
Sparks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
H. Thieme,
Johnny Clarke,
Boredoms,
Circle Jerks,
June of 44,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
World's Most,
Marmalade,
Das Ding,
Tommy Roe,
The Fugs,
Black Flag,
Faraquet,
New Order,
Intrusion,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Unwound,
Mark Hollis,
Robert Görl,
Black Pus,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.