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 Mexico and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron 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 Severed Heads to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Parry Music,
Kaleidoscope,
The Kinks,
Subhumans,
Colin Newman,
The American Breed,
Black Bananas,
Lindisfarne,
Black Moon,
Bang On A Can,
Roxette,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Divine Comedy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Blancmange,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Archie Shepp,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Suburban Knight,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gang Gang Dance,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Germs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
cv313,
Eve St. Jones,
The Pretty Things,
Scan 7,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Amon Düül,
Albert Ayler,
Al Stewart,
Q and Not U,
Crime,
Ossler,
Nas,
DJ Style,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Monks,
Duran Duran,
Faust,
Silicon Teens,
Technova,
The Buckinghams,
Sun City Girls,
The Electric Prunes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Cecil Taylor,
The Gladiators,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ken Boothe,
The Shadows of Knight,
Moss Icon,
Main Source,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.