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 Slovenia and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Black Bananas to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
The New Christs,
JFA,
Pole,
Sexual Harrassment,
Zapp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Y Pants,
Avey Tare,
The Stooges,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Archie Shepp,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Moleskins,
Graham Central Station,
Outsiders,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fuzztones,
Henry Cow,
China Crisis,
Marc Almond,
Susan Cadogan,
Heaven 17,
Amazonics,
The Searchers,
Adolescents,
Khruangbin,
the Sonics,
Procol Harum,
Crispy Ambulance,
R.M.O.,
Pulsallama,
kango's stein massive,
Porter Ricks,
Panda Bear,
The Offenders,
Thee Headcoats,
Siglo XX,
Camouflage,
Yazoo,
Aloha Tigers,
The Birthday Party,
Schoolly D,
The Shadows of Knight,
Al Stewart,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Sound,
Donny Hathaway,
Babytalk,
The Raincoats,
Charles Mingus,
DJ Sneak,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sex Pistols,
Das Ding,
Crime,
Brand Nubian,
Eden Ahbez,
Godley & Creme,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.