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 Jordan and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin 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 JFA to the techno 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Aswad,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eurythmics,
The Buckinghams,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tom Boy,
Hardrive,
Donald Byrd,
Radiohead,
Rekid,
Cybotron,
Jandek,
Eve St. Jones,
World's Most,
John Foxx,
Y Pants,
Funky Four + One,
Malaria!,
Derrick Morgan,
Prince Buster,
Bluetip,
The Victims,
The Names,
CMW,
the Sonics,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Porter Ricks,
Reagan Youth,
B.T. Express,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Yazoo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cluster,
Dawn Penn,
Colin Newman,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Standells,
Brick,
Chris Corsano,
Das Ding,
Crime,
Alice Coltrane,
Duran Duran,
The Gap Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Slave,
Eddi Front,
The Angels of Light,
Pole,
Marmalade,
Al Stewart,
Maurizio,
The Red Krayola,
Andrew Hill,
Half Japanese,
Gregory Isaacs,
David Axelrod,
Max Romeo,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.