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 Libya and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and London.
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 808 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 disco 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Andrew Hill,
The Count Five,
The Dirtbombs,
Buzzcocks,
Severed Heads,
Depeche Mode,
Little Man,
Television Personalities,
Neu!,
Lebanon Hanover,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rites of Spring,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mr. Review,
Deepchord,
Fluxion,
Nils Olav,
Grauzone,
Thompson Twins,
the Bar-Kays,
Boredoms,
Wings,
Yusef Lateef,
The Buckinghams,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bronski Beat,
Inner City,
Warsaw,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobby Sherman,
OOIOO,
The Busters,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Vogues,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kurtis Blow,
Ice-T,
Bill Near,
Lou Reed,
Gabor Szabo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Newcleus,
Aswad,
The Mummies,
The Dave Clark Five,
In Retrospect,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Drive Like Jehu,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Fugs,
Circle Jerks,
Model 500,
Theoretical Girls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Grey Daturas,
Cameo,
Zero Boys,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.