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 China and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 808 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 Sandy B to the grime 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All 10cc tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fat Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
Tres Demented,
Aloha Tigers,
Agitation Free,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hardrive,
The Offenders,
Liliput,
The Slits,
David Axelrod,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Donald Byrd,
Mars,
Swell Maps,
Moss Icon,
Peter & Gordon,
the Association,
Soul II Soul,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Human League,
Fluxion,
Nirvana,
Monks,
Vainqueur,
48th St. Collective,
Rufus Thomas,
The Raincoats,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fugazi,
Girls At Our Best!,
Barrington Levy,
Model 500,
Bush Tetras,
Avey Tare,
Maleditus Sound,
Andrew Hill,
Eric B and Rakim,
Monolake,
ABC,
Nik Kershaw,
Deakin,
Lou Christie,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fire Engines,
The Golliwogs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
T.S.O.L.,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fad Gadget,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Whodini,
Cymande,
Mantronix,
Man Parrish,
Pussy Galore,
The Fuzztones,
Anthony Braxton,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.