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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator 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 Scratch Acid to the rock 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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Angry Samoans,
Davy DMX,
Television,
The Grass Roots,
Bad Manners,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fuzztones,
John Holt,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobby Womack,
Rites of Spring,
Barry Ungar,
Gang Green,
Procol Harum,
Boz Scaggs,
Neu!,
Eve St. Jones,
Sällskapet,
Faraquet,
The Remains,
Kerri Chandler,
Fela Kuti,
Brick,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Leonard Cohen,
Scratch Acid,
Hoover,
Ponytail,
Mission of Burma,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Real Kids,
Yusef Lateef,
Schoolly D,
The Zeros,
Subhumans,
The Victims,
Can,
Vainqueur,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Arcadia,
Qualms,
Ohio Players,
The Raincoats,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bobby Sherman,
Cybotron,
Buzzcocks,
Tom Boy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Terry Callier,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Flash Fearless,
Joey Negro,
Pantytec,
Marcia Griffiths,
Massinfluence,
Section 25,
The Neon Judgement,
Cluster,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.