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 Senegal and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Robert Palmer 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 Amon Düül to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Cluster,
Trumans Water,
Dead Boys,
Mad Mike,
Crime,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Suburban Knight,
Second Layer,
Vladislav Delay,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eric Dolphy,
Albert Ayler,
The Offenders,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Litter,
cv313,
Kaleidoscope,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cowsills,
Icehouse,
Sonny Sharrock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pulsallama,
Sun Ra,
Bill Wells,
Ossler,
Swans,
Brass Construction,
Ice-T,
Echospace,
Boredoms,
Mission of Burma,
Minor Threat,
The Alarm Clocks,
Davy DMX,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scott Walker,
Khruangbin,
The Vogues,
Bobby Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Gladiators,
Sex Pistols,
Amazonics,
Zapp,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Monks,
The Grass Roots,
Half Japanese,
Man Parrish,
Mo-Dettes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
La Düsseldorf,
Dawn Penn,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Excepter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Görl,
Saccharine Trust,
Graham Central Station,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.