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 Armenia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar 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 Janne Schatter to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Peter and Kerry,
The Standells,
Lucky Dragons,
H. Thieme,
Roger Hodgson,
R.M.O.,
Rapeman,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Man Parrish,
The Detroit Cobras,
The New Christs,
Oneida,
Roy Ayers,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang Starr,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Flash Fearless,
The Wake,
Chris Corsano,
The Move,
These Immortal Souls,
The American Breed,
Alphaville,
Arthur Verocai,
Eric Dolphy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Sherman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Youth Brigade,
The Music Machine,
the Slits,
Neil Young,
Q65,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
In Retrospect,
The Pretty Things,
Barbara Tucker,
Scratch Acid,
Malaria!,
Angry Samoans,
Kaleidoscope,
The Dead C,
Donald Byrd,
The Doors,
F. McDonald,
8 Eyed Spy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
David McCallum,
Jandek,
Boz Scaggs,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Human League,
Das Ding,
Mr. Review,
Bob Dylan,
Soul II Soul,
Monolake,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.