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 Dominican Republic and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 spring reverb 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 Nation of Ulysses to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
The Moody Blues,
Tubeway Army,
Ultimate Spinach,
Todd Terry,
Electric Prunes,
Moss Icon,
Easy Going,
The Cure,
Chrome,
Blancmange,
Radio Birdman,
The Busters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Danielle Patucci,
Spoonie Gee,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Motions,
Girls At Our Best!,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Mantronix,
The Divine Comedy,
Isaac Hayes,
Y Pants,
Loose Ends,
Kerri Chandler,
David Axelrod,
Das Ding,
Motorama,
Davy DMX,
Infiniti,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Wake,
Marcia Griffiths,
Carl Craig,
Pussy Galore,
Porter Ricks,
Susan Cadogan,
Nirvana,
Brick,
Skaos,
Bobbi Humphrey,
F. McDonald,
Moebius,
Jandek,
Donald Byrd,
Tomorrow,
Prince Buster,
Drive Like Jehu,
Metal Thangz,
Eli Mardock,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Country Teasers,
The Red Krayola,
The Birthday Party,
Second Layer,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.