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 Mozambique and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
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 oboe 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 Barry Ungar to the rap 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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Sixth Finger,
Barbara Tucker,
June Days,
Public Enemy,
Prince Buster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aloha Tigers,
Iggy Pop,
The Golliwogs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Young Marble Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bootsy Collins,
Royal Trux,
The Cramps,
Funkadelic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Arthur Verocai,
Lightning Bolt,
The Moleskins,
Heaven 17,
Crooked Eye,
Nick Fraelich,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Theoretical Girls,
Echospace,
Crash Course in Science,
Nirvana,
B.T. Express,
Joyce Sims,
Das Ding,
The Velvet Underground,
The Leaves,
H. Thieme,
Scan 7,
The Names,
The Smoke,
Rosa Yemen,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Coltrane,
Minnie Riperton,
Supertramp,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cluster,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Skatalites,
Glenn Branca,
The Modern Lovers,
The Raincoats,
Nik Kershaw,
Dorothy Ashby,
Johnny Osbourne,
Neil Young,
Fear,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.