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 Tunisia and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Associates to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
Tropical Tobacco,
Boredoms,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Excepter,
Iggy Pop,
Severed Heads,
Little Man,
The Stooges,
Altered Images,
Robert Hood,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Quantec,
The Misunderstood,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deepchord,
Sonic Youth,
These Immortal Souls,
Bronski Beat,
Lucky Dragons,
Sex Pistols,
Erykah Badu,
The Neon Judgement,
Unwound,
Steve Hackett,
Basic Channel,
Erasure,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Warren Ellis,
Fad Gadget,
Camberwell Now,
Bang On A Can,
Yazoo,
Oneida,
Nik Kershaw,
The Saints,
James White and The Blacks,
Liliput,
Fluxion,
The Doors,
Sight & Sound,
Jawbox,
Chrome,
In Retrospect,
Blake Baxter,
David Bowie,
Tommy Roe,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dawn Penn,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Christie,
Cymande,
Make Up,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crispian St. Peters,
Yusef Lateef,
Ponytail,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Procol Harum,
JFA,
Henry Cow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.