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 Ecuador and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bizarre Inc. to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lakeside,
Bob Dylan,
Jacob Miller,
48th St. Collective,
The Residents,
The Cramps,
Tim Buckley,
Cal Tjader,
Radiohead,
X-Ray Spex,
Pharoah Sanders,
Monolake,
The Count Five,
The Red Krayola,
The Fuzztones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ken Boothe,
Flash Fearless,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mars,
Dead Boys,
Andrew Hill,
Kurtis Blow,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ituana,
Bronski Beat,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Pus,
Au Pairs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Public Enemy,
The Star Department,
Aural Exciters,
Absolute Body Control,
Maurizio,
Harpers Bizarre,
Radio Birdman,
Swans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pierre Henry,
Das Ding,
Max Romeo,
Crispy Ambulance,
LL Cool J,
Little Man,
Freddie Wadling,
The Dead C,
Idris Muhammad,
Joy Division,
Kool Moe Dee,
Black Moon,
Skarface,
Jawbox,
Funky Four + One,
Moby Grape,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marmalade,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sound Behaviour,
Judy Mowatt,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.