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 Kosovo and from Sao Paulo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 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 Hasil Adkins to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
The Divine Comedy,
The Motions,
Accadde A,
June Days,
X-Ray Spex,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Holt,
Ohio Players,
Slick Rick,
Todd Terry,
Glenn Branca,
Slave,
Charles Mingus,
Metal Thangz,
Ultravox,
Basic Channel,
Wasted Youth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Minor Threat,
The Mojo Men,
Morten Harket,
The Fuzztones,
Derrick Morgan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Association,
Malaria!,
Jesper Dahlback,
Terrestrial Tones,
Amazonics,
Rotary Connection,
Fat Boys,
The Smoke,
Boredoms,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Con Funk Shun,
Jeru the Damaja,
Oblivians,
Grauzone,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Organ,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Chris & Cosey,
Ornette Coleman,
Lower 48,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sam Rivers,
DJ Sneak,
Lyres,
Pylon,
Ponytail,
Von Mondo,
Blossom Toes,
The Searchers,
Sun City Girls,
Pussy Galore,
Television Personalities,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.