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 Kyrgyzstan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe 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 Marine Girls to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Y Pants,
Cymande,
Kaleidoscope,
Index,
48th St. Collective,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Womack,
Susan Cadogan,
a-ha,
The Saints,
Whodini,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Depeche Mode,
Alphaville,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
Absolute Body Control,
Soft Cell,
T.S.O.L.,
Von Mondo,
B.T. Express,
Steve Hackett,
Sugar Minott,
Bluetip,
The Slackers,
Masters at Work,
Dave Gahan,
Mr. Review,
The United States of America,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Flag,
David McCallum,
Cal Tjader,
Rapeman,
June Days,
The Fire Engines,
Harmonia,
Erasure,
Yazoo,
The Modern Lovers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Buzzcocks,
Marvin Gaye,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jacob Miller,
Andrew Hill,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Tremeloes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lou Reed,
Sam Rivers,
Jacques Brel,
Deadbeat,
Swans,
Scratch Acid,
Nils Olav,
Sandy B,
Faraquet,
Chris Corsano,
Procol Harum,
The Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.