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 Burundi and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 48th St. Collective 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Quantec,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Joe Smooth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pagans,
Monks,
Buzzcocks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Max Romeo,
Black Flag,
Tres Demented,
a-ha,
June Days,
Nation of Ulysses,
KRS-One,
Nas,
Black Pus,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Index,
Jeru the Damaja,
Qualms,
Mr. Review,
The Pretty Things,
Easy Going,
Monolake,
Desert Stars,
Bauhaus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Busters,
Scion,
Lou Christie,
Mission of Burma,
Groovy Waters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radiohead,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nick Fraelich,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Association,
Sexual Harrassment,
Throbbing Gristle,
Underground Resistance,
Morten Harket,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Gap Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Malaria!,
World's Most,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Happenings,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Susan Cadogan,
Television Personalities,
Lakeside,
The Invisible,
Mad Mike,
Sun Ra,
Ituana,
Eddi Front,
Intrusion,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.