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 Liberia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Skatalites to the funk 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
AZ,
The Standells,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Slits,
The Slackers,
KRS-One,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cameo,
Lightning Bolt,
Moby Grape,
The Cramps,
Shoche,
The Gun Club,
Soft Cell,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Chris & Cosey,
The Slits,
Simply Red,
Infiniti,
Con Funk Shun,
Bang On A Can,
Motorama,
Hot Snakes,
Albert Ayler,
The Red Krayola,
The Fugs,
Electric Prunes,
Half Japanese,
The Black Dice,
Visage,
Kaleidoscope,
OOIOO,
The Mojo Men,
The Techniques,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Liliput,
Eve St. Jones,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tears for Fears,
Matthew Halsall,
Whodini,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yusef Lateef,
The Knickerbockers,
Silicon Teens,
Grey Daturas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Bar-Kays,
The Beau Brummels,
The Happenings,
Fear,
Little Man,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Malaria!,
The Wake,
Godley & Creme,
Kayak,
Q65,
Pierre Henry,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.