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 Mauritania and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Tommy Roe to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
World's Most,
Saccharine Trust,
Derrick May,
Iggy Pop,
The Zeros,
Young Marble Giants,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Womack,
Albert Ayler,
Circle Jerks,
June of 44,
Ornette Coleman,
Man Parrish,
Howard Jones,
Wasted Youth,
the Swans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Second Layer,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pussy Galore,
James White and The Blacks,
The Index,
Moebius,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Litter,
Sugar Minott,
Metal Thangz,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The American Breed,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
K-Klass,
Goldenarms,
Althea and Donna,
Spandau Ballet,
Faust,
Crooked Eye,
John Holt,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Fad Gadget,
Rufus Thomas,
Patti Smith,
Reagan Youth,
Mission of Burma,
Toni Rubio,
Andrew Hill,
Gil Scott Heron,
Reuben Wilson,
Make Up,
Marshall Jefferson,
Oneida,
Eddi Front,
Sun City Girls,
The Moody Blues,
Mad Mike,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Human League,
Marmalade,
Siglo XX,
DJ Sneak,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.