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 El Salvador and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Grandmaster Flash to the crunk 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
Stetsasonic,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Chrome,
Popol Vuh,
The Modern Lovers,
The Knickerbockers,
Tears for Fears,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mission of Burma,
Marvin Gaye,
Fluxion,
Ralphi Rosario,
Spoonie Gee,
Nation of Ulysses,
Accadde A,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Red Krayola,
Suicide,
The Raincoats,
Alton Ellis,
Smog,
The Real Kids,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mantronix,
Section 25,
Amon Düül,
Harry Pussy,
Neil Young,
The Names,
This Heat,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Skarface,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ituana,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Susan Cadogan,
Ken Boothe,
Boz Scaggs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Circle Jerks,
The Moody Blues,
Index,
Joensuu 1685,
The Monks,
ABC,
Duran Duran,
The Count Five,
Qualms,
Tommy Roe,
Maleditus Sound,
Mark Hollis,
Fatback Band,
Main Source,
Wings,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sun Ra,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.