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 Lithuania and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare 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 Tropical Tobacco to the jazz 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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Howard Jones,
Jeff Lynne,
The Flesh Eaters,
These Immortal Souls,
The Monochrome Set,
Theoretical Girls,
Warren Ellis,
The Stooges,
Television,
Fear,
Tres Demented,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Public Enemy,
Scrapy,
Rekid,
The J.B.'s,
Qualms,
Funkadelic,
The Birthday Party,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hot Snakes,
Fluxion,
Oneida,
UT,
The Sound,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pet Shop Boys,
Davy DMX,
PIL,
Steve Hackett,
Andrew Hill,
Parry Music,
Pulsallama,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gil Scott Heron,
Juan Atkins,
The Fuzztones,
Amon Düül II,
The Mummies,
Severed Heads,
Sonny Sharrock,
Zero Boys,
Minny Pops,
E-Dancer,
Whodini,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Audionom,
The Fortunes,
Lindisfarne,
Godley & Creme,
X-101,
The Misunderstood,
The Vogues,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DJ Style,
Tom Boy,
Joyce Sims,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.