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 Uzbekistan and from Madrid.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Moby Grape to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Lakeside,
Public Image Ltd.,
Flash Fearless,
Slick Rick,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Grass Roots,
Graham Central Station,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ken Boothe,
Neil Young,
Terry Callier,
Radio Birdman,
Babytalk,
Harry Pussy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Last Poets,
Mr. Review,
the Fania All-Stars,
Donald Byrd,
The Mojo Men,
Tomorrow,
Jawbox,
Piero Umiliani,
Vladislav Delay,
Pet Shop Boys,
Zero Boys,
MDC,
Magazine,
Arab on Radar,
Rotary Connection,
Dual Sessions,
Blake Baxter,
Angry Samoans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joensuu 1685,
Tommy Roe,
Fear,
The Kinks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crime,
The Misunderstood,
Gong,
Henry Cow,
FM Einheit,
Bill Near,
The Fortunes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Funkadelic,
Yaz,
Niagra,
David Axelrod,
Matthew Halsall,
The Cure,
The Happenings,
These Immortal Souls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Association,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.