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 Taiwan and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer 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 Cal Tjader to the grunge 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Beau Brummels,
Leonard Cohen,
Ralphi Rosario,
Interpol,
The Evens,
Bizarre Inc.,
X-101,
X-102,
Aural Exciters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Names,
The Walker Brothers,
Massinfluence,
Arab on Radar,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Youth Brigade,
Liliput,
the Normal,
Blancmange,
Fela Kuti,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
U.S. Maple,
Fad Gadget,
the Soft Cell,
Ten City,
Theoretical Girls,
Unwound,
Black Sheep,
Barry Ungar,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minor Threat,
David Bowie,
LL Cool J,
Yaz,
Jacques Brel,
Brothers Johnson,
Tomorrow,
Delon & Dalcan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hashim,
Whodini,
Lyres,
Pantytec,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Graham Central Station,
Sex Pistols,
Anthony Braxton,
Index,
Delta 5,
Ronnie Foster,
Absolute Body Control,
Sonic Youth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Danielle Patucci,
Q and Not U,
Chris Corsano,
Soul Sonic Force,
K-Klass,
Soul II Soul,
Cybotron,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.