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 Lebanon and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 the Swans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Wasted Youth,
Outsiders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Malaria!,
Heaven 17,
Banda Bassotti,
Aloha Tigers,
Kas Product,
The Misunderstood,
Grey Daturas,
Laurel Aitken,
Soul Sonic Force,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roxette,
Juan Atkins,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Zeros,
The Monks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
ABC,
Jeff Mills,
Panda Bear,
Crime,
Lower 48,
Nick Fraelich,
Suicide,
Excepter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jacob Miller,
Johnny Clarke,
Lebanon Hanover,
Oblivians,
Fela Kuti,
Jawbox,
Buzzcocks,
the Sonics,
Dark Day,
Anthony Braxton,
The Monochrome Set,
Second Layer,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Das Ding,
Eli Mardock,
Tres Demented,
Underground Resistance,
Royal Trux,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bobby Sherman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Evens,
B.T. Express,
Kenny Larkin,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ronan,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.