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 Saudi Arabia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Halifax.
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 linndrum 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 8 Eyed Spy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
PIL,
Ossler,
The Beau Brummels,
Pierre Henry,
the Normal,
Ralphi Rosario,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Durutti Column,
Joyce Sims,
Deadbeat,
Freddie Wadling,
Marc Almond,
Minnie Riperton,
Wire,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Vogues,
Basic Channel,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lucky Dragons,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Symarip,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Underground Resistance,
Eli Mardock,
Althea and Donna,
Roxy Music,
The Flesh Eaters,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Bar-Kays,
Charles Mingus,
EPMD,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ice-T,
B.T. Express,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kaleidoscope,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Neu!,
DJ Style,
Groovy Waters,
Wings,
Judy Mowatt,
The Red Krayola,
Warren Ellis,
Grandmaster Flash,
ABC,
Yazoo,
Jawbox,
Boogie Down Productions,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rekid,
Vainqueur,
The Raincoats,
Scrapy,
Amon Düül II,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.