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 Kiribati and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 David Bowie 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 Parry Music to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Wasted Youth,
Cameo,
OOIOO,
Scrapy,
Sex Pistols,
Yellowson,
KRS-One,
Scratch Acid,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jacob Miller,
Bang On A Can,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tres Demented,
Toni Rubio,
Wally Richardson,
The Knickerbockers,
Liliput,
Black Moon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Freddie Wadling,
Aloha Tigers,
Johnny Clarke,
Cluster,
Rufus Thomas,
Infiniti,
Pantytec,
Deakin,
Brand Nubian,
Amon Düül II,
Outsiders,
Peter and Kerry,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bush Tetras,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
David Axelrod,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pagans,
Man Parrish,
The Standells,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cowsills,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Moby Grape,
The Velvet Underground,
kango's stein massive,
The Trojans,
Adolescents,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Anakelly,
The Flesh Eaters,
Popol Vuh,
Hashim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Royal Trux,
Echospace,
Darondo,
Roger Hodgson,
Althea and Donna,
Youth Brigade,
Moss Icon,
Deepchord,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.