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 Belarus and from Madrid.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Robert Palmer 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 Fortunes to the techno 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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Electric Prunes,
Rakim,
Graham Central Station,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tres Demented,
Wasted Youth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Connie Case,
The Slackers,
The Leaves,
Swans,
Black Bananas,
The J.B.'s,
Roxy Music,
Monolake,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
T.S.O.L.,
Godley & Creme,
Idris Muhammad,
LL Cool J,
Porter Ricks,
Q and Not U,
Black Flag,
The Gap Band,
Shuggie Otis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Thee Headcoats,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Neon Judgement,
Nas,
Reuben Wilson,
Oneida,
The Buckinghams,
Trumans Water,
Alice Coltrane,
Schoolly D,
Big Daddy Kane,
Half Japanese,
T. Rex,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bill Near,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fire Engines,
Patti Smith,
Tubeway Army,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Invisible,
Agitation Free,
Pere Ubu,
The Cramps,
Scrapy,
Sight & Sound,
The Litter,
Ultra Naté,
The Names,
The Residents,
Pantytec,
The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set.
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.