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 Micronesia and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Robert Palmer 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 Robert Hood to the dance 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Visage,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eve St. Jones,
Babytalk,
Alton Ellis,
Agitation Free,
The Litter,
Black Sheep,
The Fugs,
Pulsallama,
The Happenings,
Man Eating Sloth,
Stetsasonic,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pierre Henry,
Lakeside,
New Age Steppers,
X-Ray Spex,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Residents,
Sex Pistols,
The Grass Roots,
Lower 48,
Young Marble Giants,
Henry Cow,
Hashim,
Jawbox,
David Bowie,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barrington Levy,
New Order,
Sound Behaviour,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
F. McDonald,
The Neon Judgement,
Eric Copeland,
Black Flag,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blake Baxter,
Idris Muhammad,
Fat Boys,
Janne Schatter,
Gang Green,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ludus,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Toasters,
The Skatalites,
Jacob Miller,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Radiohead,
Unwound,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sun City Girls,
Todd Terry,
D'Angelo,
Television,
The Durutti Column,
Hot Snakes,
The Electric Prunes,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.