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 Ecuador and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 güiro 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 Panda Bear to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
The Kinks,
Cheater Slicks,
Grauzone,
The Music Machine,
Cluster,
The Happenings,
Deakin,
Motorama,
Chris & Cosey,
The Doobie Brothers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pylon,
The Zeros,
Arab on Radar,
MC5,
The Velvet Underground,
Section 25,
Accadde A,
Scratch Acid,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bootsy Collins,
Shoche,
Stetsasonic,
Carl Craig,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hot Snakes,
The Slackers,
Heaven 17,
The Skatalites,
Reuben Wilson,
LL Cool J,
Ten City,
The Raincoats,
Delta 5,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Index,
Johnny Clarke,
Bang On A Can,
Faraquet,
Mandrill,
Absolute Body Control,
Man Parrish,
Urselle,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Foxx,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
James White and The Blacks,
the Normal,
Derrick Morgan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pierre Henry,
Nico,
Gang of Four,
Q and Not U,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Skaos,
Unrelated Segments,
Bauhaus,
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.