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 Suriname and from Bremen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 The Buckinghams to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Banda Bassotti,
Ultra Naté,
The Names,
Malaria!,
Yellowson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kurtis Blow,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Throbbing Gristle,
U.S. Maple,
Icehouse,
The Index,
Boredoms,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kaleidoscope,
Stiv Bators,
Agent Orange,
The Count Five,
The Neon Judgement,
L. Decosne,
Soul II Soul,
Stereo Dub,
Gichy Dan,
Lungfish,
Qualms,
June of 44,
Kenny Larkin,
Duran Duran,
Ludus,
Connie Case,
Johnny Clarke,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The American Breed,
Oneida,
Donny Hathaway,
Kerri Chandler,
The Evens,
Crooked Eye,
Sister Nancy,
the Normal,
Bootsy Collins,
Sixth Finger,
Spoonie Gee,
The Doobie Brothers,
OOIOO,
kango's stein massive,
Josef K,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-Ray Spex,
Piero Umiliani,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Flipper,
The Martian,
Matthew Halsall,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth.
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.