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 Botswana and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dirtbombs to the grime 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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Nas,
The Moody Blues,
The Evens,
the Normal,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eden Ahbez,
E-Dancer,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Tremeloes,
F. McDonald,
The Slits,
Tres Demented,
Swans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eurythmics,
Blossom Toes,
Siglo XX,
Harmonia,
Tommy Roe,
Unwound,
The Gories,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Faust,
Black Sheep,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joey Negro,
Yusef Lateef,
Rapeman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Alison Limerick,
The Techniques,
The Real Kids,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rekid,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Crime,
Donny Hathaway,
Mantronix,
June of 44,
Royal Trux,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Hardrive,
Fluxion,
Mars,
Faraquet,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sound Behaviour,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Skriet,
Neil Young,
LL Cool J,
Wings,
Boz Scaggs,
DJ Style,
Lalo Schifrin,
Matthew Halsall,
Soul II Soul,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Prince Buster,
Country Teasers,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.