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 China and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 the Normal to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Alphaville,
DNA,
John Cale,
Mr. Review,
The Neon Judgement,
The Wake,
Nik Kershaw,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mandrill,
The Count Five,
Byron Stingily,
Harry Pussy,
Scrapy,
The Busters,
the Swans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nico,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The J.B.'s,
Nils Olav,
Scientists,
LL Cool J,
Slick Rick,
The Gap Band,
Isaac Hayes,
Los Fastidios,
Sandy B,
The Tremeloes,
Laurel Aitken,
Malaria!,
Public Enemy,
Fela Kuti,
Adolescents,
Japan,
Ten City,
Judy Mowatt,
Hasil Adkins,
Hot Snakes,
Hardrive,
The Human League,
Hashim,
Kas Product,
a-ha,
Boz Scaggs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
cv313,
Todd Terry,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
K-Klass,
Soft Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Freddie Wadling,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bootsy Collins,
Can,
Dave Gahan,
Bill Near,
Sugar Minott,
Patti Smith,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.