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 Vanuatu and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Durutti Column to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed 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 a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Divine Comedy,
The Tremeloes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Arab on Radar,
Black Pus,
Brothers Johnson,
Yaz,
Gregory Isaacs,
Khruangbin,
Von Mondo,
The Stooges,
Inner City,
Gil Scott Heron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Doors,
Fugazi,
The Motions,
Amon Düül II,
Piero Umiliani,
Letta Mbulu,
The Blackbyrds,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Negative Approach,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rufus Thomas,
Jawbox,
Aaron Thompson,
The Durutti Column,
The Gap Band,
Sällskapet,
Fluxion,
Radio Birdman,
Skriet,
OOIOO,
Ken Boothe,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kenny Larkin,
Thompson Twins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hardrive,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mars,
The Dirtbombs,
The Black Dice,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Blake Baxter,
The Dave Clark Five,
Porter Ricks,
Half Japanese,
Aloha Tigers,
Rites of Spring,
John Foxx,
The Techniques,
Sex Pistols,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Saints,
Barbara Tucker,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.