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 Korea South and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Michael McDonald 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 Rufus Thomas to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
The Fugs,
Minnie Riperton,
Parry Music,
Wings,
Amazonics,
Soft Cell,
Lungfish,
Goldenarms,
CMW,
Connie Case,
Man Parrish,
Anakelly,
Pharoah Sanders,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Sonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Remains,
Nas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ponytail,
Tres Demented,
The Moody Blues,
Magazine,
Youth Brigade,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Piero Umiliani,
Camouflage,
June of 44,
Jerry's Kids,
Severed Heads,
The Happenings,
Rod Modell,
Nirvana,
Grey Daturas,
Eli Mardock,
a-ha,
Outsiders,
The Selecter,
Ornette Coleman,
Thompson Twins,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Alison Limerick,
Cheater Slicks,
Darondo,
The Doors,
Underground Resistance,
Magma,
Main Source,
Graham Central Station,
Ludus,
Tubeway Army,
Rekid,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Henry Cow,
Public Image Ltd.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Martian,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Barbara Tucker,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.