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 Chile and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Urselle to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Radiopuhelimet,
Camberwell Now,
Zero Boys,
Pagans,
Flipper,
Yaz,
Tres Demented,
Isaac Hayes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Five Americans,
Prince Buster,
Wire,
Robert Hood,
The Gories,
Quando Quango,
8 Eyed Spy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sonic Youth,
Icehouse,
This Heat,
Wally Richardson,
Sällskapet,
John Coltrane,
The Fall,
Hoover,
Pussy Galore,
Bob Dylan,
Freddie Wadling,
Brick,
Section 25,
Reuben Wilson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Skarface,
Newcleus,
The Leaves,
The Last Poets,
Soft Machine,
The Move,
Ornette Coleman,
Maurizio,
The Beau Brummels,
Anthony Braxton,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fuzztones,
Wasted Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Litter,
Motorama,
Loose Ends,
Letta Mbulu,
Tom Boy,
John Cale,
Quadrant,
Faust,
Crispy Ambulance,
a-ha,
Peter & Gordon,
The Moleskins,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deakin,
Matthew Bourne,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.