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 Germany and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 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 Maurizio to the crunk 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Country Teasers,
Pantytec,
Spandau Ballet,
Derrick May,
Babytalk,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ornette Coleman,
Letta Mbulu,
The Cowsills,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sight & Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lou Reed,
Scrapy,
Lower 48,
Con Funk Shun,
Eve St. Jones,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Unwound,
The Moody Blues,
John Coltrane,
Vladislav Delay,
Yaz,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pantaleimon,
Dead Boys,
Mission of Burma,
Boz Scaggs,
Bang On A Can,
The Monochrome Set,
Skaos,
Dawn Penn,
Public Enemy,
China Crisis,
The Wake,
Tropical Tobacco,
Archie Shepp,
Malaria!,
a-ha,
Severed Heads,
Metal Thangz,
Kas Product,
Eric B and Rakim,
These Immortal Souls,
Grey Daturas,
Niagra,
The Associates,
Spoonie Gee,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Audionom,
Wally Richardson,
John Foxx,
The Happenings,
Masters at Work,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gang Starr,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Moon,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.