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 Tuvalu and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the grunge 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Anakelly,
The Pretty Things,
Connie Case,
the Bar-Kays,
John Lydon,
Suburban Knight,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Zero Boys,
Gang Starr,
Rufus Thomas,
Theoretical Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Model 500,
Leonard Cohen,
Ponytail,
Shuggie Otis,
Nils Olav,
Vainqueur,
Sixth Finger,
Sex Pistols,
Faraquet,
Intrusion,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Hood,
Sällskapet,
The Blues Magoos,
Ten City,
Saccharine Trust,
Reagan Youth,
Laurel Aitken,
Stetsasonic,
Chris Corsano,
A Certain Ratio,
Deakin,
The Move,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Procol Harum,
The Stooges,
Pagans,
Altered Images,
Das Ding,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
These Immortal Souls,
The Moleskins,
Motorama,
The Modern Lovers,
Royal Trux,
Bill Wells,
The Litter,
a-ha,
Amon Düül,
Minnie Riperton,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Magazine,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.