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 Peru and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Aswad to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
D'Angelo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ten City,
DJ Sneak,
Max Romeo,
Black Sheep,
Country Teasers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Neu!,
Jesper Dahlback,
Supertramp,
Graham Central Station,
Hoover,
The Five Americans,
The Divine Comedy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sound Behaviour,
The Moleskins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bush Tetras,
Livin' Joy,
The Kinks,
Funky Four + One,
Slave,
The Monochrome Set,
Wings,
Jerry's Kids,
the Soft Cell,
Camouflage,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Oneida,
The Alarm Clocks,
Grey Daturas,
Easy Going,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pere Ubu,
Tubeway Army,
Half Japanese,
Skarface,
Flash Fearless,
Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ponytail,
Ken Boothe,
Roxette,
Marine Girls,
Electric Prunes,
Robert Hood,
Godley & Creme,
Don Cherry,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Franke,
Subhumans,
T. Rex,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nation of Ulysses,
Magma,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Gap Band,
R.M.O.,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.