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 Czech Republic and from Seoul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Jakarta.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Monks to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Monolake,
Radio Birdman,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mandrill,
The Gories,
Crash Course in Science,
The Saints,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
H. Thieme,
Youth Brigade,
The Real Kids,
Sam Rivers,
Agitation Free,
Ken Boothe,
Thompson Twins,
The Busters,
Fear,
The J.B.'s,
Gang Green,
Organ,
Sonic Youth,
10cc,
Vladislav Delay,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Germs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crime,
Henry Cow,
Minnie Riperton,
The Last Poets,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wasted Youth,
Tommy Roe,
David Bowie,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ten City,
The Durutti Column,
Soul II Soul,
Basic Channel,
Laurel Aitken,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Suburban Knight,
Infiniti,
The Birthday Party,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minutemen,
Deakin,
Alton Ellis,
the Human League,
The Tremeloes,
Pole,
Circle Jerks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Procol Harum,
Bob Dylan,
The Five Americans,
Spandau Ballet,
Talk Talk,
The Invisible,
Pulsallama,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.