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 Egypt and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
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 Eli Mardock to the grime 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Ossler,
Radiohead,
Black Bananas,
Scott Walker,
Lou Reed,
Pantytec,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David McCallum,
Glenn Branca,
Bill Wells,
Jesper Dahlback,
Delon & Dalcan,
David Axelrod,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Clear Light,
Chrome,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Simply Red,
A Certain Ratio,
R.M.O.,
Mark Hollis,
Rotary Connection,
Kayak,
James White and The Blacks,
Skarface,
Soft Machine,
Fear,
Sandy B,
Organ,
Juan Atkins,
10cc,
8 Eyed Spy,
DJ Sneak,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Trumans Water,
Outsiders,
Buzzcocks,
Black Sheep,
Slave,
Andrew Hill,
Severed Heads,
The Litter,
Thee Headcoats,
New Order,
Bizarre Inc.,
Inner City,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bill Near,
Excepter,
Amon Düül,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Scrapy,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Godley & Creme,
The Seeds,
Eric B and Rakim,
Au Pairs,
The Beau Brummels,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.