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 Nepal and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Philadelphia.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Henry Cow to the grunge 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Smog,
Avey Tare,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Trumans Water,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nas,
Porter Ricks,
Lucky Dragons,
Pantytec,
Malaria!,
Warsaw,
Nation of Ulysses,
The United States of America,
Absolute Body Control,
48th St. Collective,
Don Cherry,
Oneida,
Wolf Eyes,
Godley & Creme,
Althea and Donna,
Lungfish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Max Romeo,
the Soft Cell,
Circle Jerks,
Yusef Lateef,
Pylon,
The Dead C,
Pussy Galore,
The Slackers,
Flipper,
David Axelrod,
Faraquet,
One Last Wish,
Echospace,
a-ha,
Clear Light,
The Vogues,
Monolake,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Barrington Levy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Young Rascals,
Arthur Verocai,
Judy Mowatt,
Jeff Mills,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jimmy McGriff,
China Crisis,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roy Ayers,
Jeff Lynne,
Parry Music,
Popol Vuh,
Suburban Knight,
Livin' Joy,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.