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 Nigeria and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kas Product to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Dead Boys,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jandek,
Brass Construction,
Eden Ahbez,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Tremeloes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mojo Men,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fuzztones,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Reuben Wilson,
Talk Talk,
Arthur Verocai,
Siglo XX,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Royal Trux,
This Heat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Spandau Ballet,
K-Klass,
Pantaleimon,
Dawn Penn,
Pantytec,
Isaac Hayes,
Au Pairs,
the Normal,
Cal Tjader,
Roxy Music,
Deadbeat,
Lakeside,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marine Girls,
Quando Quango,
Bronski Beat,
Black Moon,
Bobby Byrd,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sarah Menescal,
New Age Steppers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cybotron,
Roxette,
Gabor Szabo,
Cecil Taylor,
Niagra,
Ken Boothe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Newcleus,
Smog,
Brothers Johnson,
Von Mondo,
John Lydon,
Blossom Toes,
Loose Ends,
Marcia Griffiths,
Theoretical Girls,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.