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 Sweden and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Philadelphia.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Toasters to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Dawn Penn,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minutemen,
The Trojans,
Letta Mbulu,
Harmonia,
Stiv Bators,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kevin Saunderson,
Faust,
Terrestrial Tones,
Zero Boys,
Mandrill,
John Coltrane,
Mo-Dettes,
La Düsseldorf,
Jerry Gold Smith,
48th St. Collective,
Icehouse,
Lower 48,
Connie Case,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sound Behaviour,
Albert Ayler,
Jacques Brel,
The Invisible,
Derrick Morgan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Public Enemy,
Bobby Womack,
Roger Hodgson,
MDC,
Sandy B,
Eric Copeland,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Black Dice,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fortunes,
The Blues Magoos,
Skaos,
Henry Cow,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bush Tetras,
Radiopuhelimet,
Juan Atkins,
The Moody Blues,
Yazoo,
Janne Schatter,
Avey Tare,
Throbbing Gristle,
Michelle Simonal,
The Five Americans,
Metal Thangz,
Buzzcocks,
Sun City Girls,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Leaves,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.