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 Japan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 güiro 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 Deadbeat to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
The Gun Club,
The Evens,
Ronnie Foster,
Cymande,
Subhumans,
Sight & Sound,
Lightning Bolt,
The Raincoats,
Essential Logic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Monks,
L. Decosne,
Robert Hood,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Residents,
New York Dolls,
These Immortal Souls,
10cc,
Mars,
Ituana,
B.T. Express,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T.S.O.L.,
Absolute Body Control,
The Victims,
Siglo XX,
Nils Olav,
Junior Murvin,
EPMD,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Fire Engines,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Faust,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harmonia,
Bad Manners,
The Human League,
Massinfluence,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sarah Menescal,
Thompson Twins,
Ronan,
Sexual Harrassment,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Shuggie Otis,
The J.B.'s,
Dennis Brown,
Erasure,
Hoover,
Radio Birdman,
X-Ray Spex,
Aswad,
The Move,
Wire,
Amazonics,
Q65,
The Associates,
Sex Pistols,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.