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 Antigua and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mummies to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Altered Images,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radiopuhelimet,
New York Dolls,
Brand Nubian,
Wire,
The Fortunes,
Ken Boothe,
Eve St. Jones,
the Association,
Gong,
Lungfish,
Second Layer,
Soft Cell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Suburban Knight,
The Pop Group,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pere Ubu,
Rosa Yemen,
Qualms,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roy Ayers,
Moebius,
Zapp,
Idris Muhammad,
Circle Jerks,
Trumans Water,
Donald Byrd,
K-Klass,
Thee Headcoats,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Aloha Tigers,
MC5,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Carl Craig,
Guru Guru,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tomorrow,
Swell Maps,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Neu!,
Soft Machine,
Crooked Eye,
Flash Fearless,
Ultra Naté,
Byron Stingily,
Piero Umiliani,
Dave Gahan,
World's Most,
Lebanon Hanover,
In Retrospect,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.