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 East Timor and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Blues Magoos to the electroclash 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Oneida,
Idris Muhammad,
Fat Boys,
Roxy Music,
Rekid,
The Last Poets,
Wolf Eyes,
Lou Christie,
La Düsseldorf,
Deakin,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Durutti Column,
Prince Buster,
Skarface,
Bush Tetras,
Pierre Henry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
LL Cool J,
Reagan Youth,
FM Einheit,
Arthur Verocai,
Thee Headcoats,
Absolute Body Control,
The Human League,
Fluxion,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lightning Bolt,
Bob Dylan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fatback Band,
Shuggie Otis,
Average White Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Derrick May,
The Slits,
Wings,
Talk Talk,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Electric Prunes,
Dawn Penn,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Can,
Eli Mardock,
The Martian,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Pus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Grauzone,
Country Teasers,
Gichy Dan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jeru the Damaja,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.