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 Switzerland and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Donald Fagen 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 Maleditus Sound 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood 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?
the Soft Cell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Duran Duran,
June Days,
Anthony Braxton,
Gang Starr,
Quadrant,
Rosa Yemen,
Eddi Front,
Gerry Rafferty,
John Lydon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yazoo,
Fat Boys,
Mission of Burma,
the Sonics,
Average White Band,
John Cale,
Albert Ayler,
Main Source,
The Cramps,
the Human League,
Erasure,
Black Sheep,
Black Pus,
Juan Atkins,
Vainqueur,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Music Machine,
Livin' Joy,
Marshall Jefferson,
H. Thieme,
Sight & Sound,
Buzzcocks,
Nils Olav,
Dennis Brown,
The Offenders,
The Smoke,
The Doobie Brothers,
Model 500,
B.T. Express,
The Human League,
Lucky Dragons,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wally Richardson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Young Rascals,
John Foxx,
The Walker Brothers,
the Swans,
F. McDonald,
Second Layer,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scott Walker,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tim Buckley,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Clear Light,
The Moody Blues,
Sparks,
Underground Resistance,
Flipper,
Pierre Henry,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.