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 Somalia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Offenders to the crunk 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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
The Barracudas,
Al Stewart,
D'Angelo,
Minnie Riperton,
Judy Mowatt,
Nils Olav,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Morten Harket,
EPMD,
The Fall,
the Bar-Kays,
Magma,
Smog,
Organ,
Marvin Gaye,
Moby Grape,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Holt,
The Count Five,
Robert Wyatt,
David McCallum,
Lucky Dragons,
Eric Copeland,
Popol Vuh,
Spoonie Gee,
Curtis Mayfield,
Spandau Ballet,
48th St. Collective,
Oneida,
The Dead C,
Surgeon,
Nik Kershaw,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pagans,
The Zeros,
Jawbox,
Gabor Szabo,
Icehouse,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wolf Eyes,
Boz Scaggs,
U.S. Maple,
Delon & Dalcan,
Slave,
Liliput,
Maleditus Sound,
Lower 48,
Derrick May,
Bluetip,
Buzzcocks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Monolake,
Prince Buster,
Lalo Schifrin,
Steve Hackett,
Laurel Aitken,
Make Up,
The Sound,
kango's stein massive,
Gong,
Supertramp,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.