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 Maldives and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 mellotron 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rites of Spring,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rekid,
The Red Krayola,
Mad Mike,
Alphaville,
Connie Case,
The Fugs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sam Rivers,
Anakelly,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Don Cherry,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Idris Muhammad,
Deakin,
Franke,
Robert Wyatt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Names,
Cal Tjader,
Jesper Dahlback,
Saccharine Trust,
L. Decosne,
Fad Gadget,
Unwound,
Alice Coltrane,
Soft Machine,
Harmonia,
Bootsy Collins,
Tommy Roe,
Donald Byrd,
The Gun Club,
Nas,
Popol Vuh,
The Gladiators,
Royal Trux,
Lungfish,
MC5,
Brothers Johnson,
The Young Rascals,
Max Romeo,
Wings,
Dead Boys,
The Cramps,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Seeds,
Delta 5,
E-Dancer,
CMW,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Normal,
Oneida,
Darondo,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Shadows of Knight,
Neu!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.