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 Iraq and from Beijing.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 linndrum 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 Dead C to the techno 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Public Enemy,
Scan 7,
Hot Snakes,
Man Parrish,
Simply Red,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Hashim,
Organ,
Alison Limerick,
The Litter,
Gang of Four,
Monolake,
Lungfish,
The Stooges,
Jeff Lynne,
Susan Cadogan,
Make Up,
The Names,
Rufus Thomas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ohio Players,
Trumans Water,
Whodini,
Schoolly D,
Subhumans,
The Gun Club,
The Moody Blues,
the Slits,
Monks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Q65,
Blake Baxter,
The Standells,
The Walker Brothers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Animal Collective,
The Fugs,
Nik Kershaw,
T. Rex,
Stetsasonic,
H. Thieme,
The Trojans,
Scratch Acid,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Black Pus,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wolf Eyes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Barbara Tucker,
Gregory Isaacs,
Intrusion,
Babytalk,
Jeff Mills,
Jeru the Damaja,
Laurel Aitken,
Janne Schatter,
Television,
Delta 5,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.