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 Belize and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 güiro 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 Sound to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Faust,
The Remains,
Gang Starr,
Grauzone,
Janne Schatter,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Sonics,
The Beau Brummels,
CMW,
Pole,
Barclay James Harvest,
Danielle Patucci,
Chris Corsano,
Terrestrial Tones,
Unwound,
New Age Steppers,
The Monks,
Simply Red,
Visage,
Aaron Thompson,
Matthew Halsall,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
New Order,
Albert Ayler,
Das Ding,
Eli Mardock,
Warsaw,
Pere Ubu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rod Modell,
Country Teasers,
Sonic Youth,
Joe Finger,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
AZ,
Kas Product,
Smog,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Human League,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Minutemen,
Siglo XX,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Foxx,
Severed Heads,
Television,
Scan 7,
Chrome,
X-101,
Ken Boothe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rekid,
Crime,
Blossom Toes,
X-Ray Spex,
Mantronix,
This Heat,
Magazine,
The Toasters,
Marvin Gaye,
Mandrill,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.