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 Iraq and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin 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 Mighty Diamonds to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
The Cowsills,
Yazoo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Todd Terry,
Quando Quango,
Alton Ellis,
The Red Krayola,
Porter Ricks,
Rites of Spring,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Panda Bear,
Moss Icon,
Scion,
Bronski Beat,
Kurtis Blow,
Amazonics,
Fad Gadget,
Toni Rubio,
Matthew Bourne,
Rekid,
Loose Ends,
The Skatalites,
Quantec,
Kerrie Biddell,
Can,
Joensuu 1685,
Supertramp,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Walker Brothers,
Flash Fearless,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marine Girls,
UT,
Godley & Creme,
AZ,
the Bar-Kays,
Television,
Ponytail,
New Age Steppers,
Mr. Review,
the Germs,
Kenny Larkin,
Peter and Kerry,
Nirvana,
Black Moon,
Joe Finger,
The Durutti Column,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Moleskins,
Slick Rick,
Roy Ayers,
Robert Wyatt,
Jacob Miller,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pulsallama,
Man Parrish,
Bill Wells,
John Cale,
Bush Tetras,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.