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 Armenia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Hot Snakes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Kerrie Biddell,
Trumans Water,
China Crisis,
Lyres,
Section 25,
The Gladiators,
Henry Cow,
48th St. Collective,
The Residents,
Sam Rivers,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Doors,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kas Product,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Johnny Clarke,
Stiv Bators,
Gil Scott Heron,
Easy Going,
World's Most,
Lightning Bolt,
Frankie Knuckles,
Audionom,
MDC,
Bob Dylan,
The Knickerbockers,
The Standells,
Todd Terry,
The Blues Magoos,
Davy DMX,
Chris Corsano,
Grey Daturas,
Interpol,
Traffic Nightmare,
Outsiders,
Deadbeat,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fugazi,
The Velvet Underground,
Funky Four + One,
Leonard Cohen,
Qualms,
The Electric Prunes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Derrick May,
Ludus,
Brand Nubian,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Flesh Eaters,
Alison Limerick,
Young Marble Giants,
Minnie Riperton,
The Golliwogs,
Nirvana,
Mo-Dettes,
Rites of Spring,
David Bowie,
Neil Young,
Swans,
Patti Smith,
Kevin Saunderson,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.