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 Sweden and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lyon.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Todd Rundgren,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scion,
Lyres,
Crispian St. Peters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stockholm Monsters,
T.S.O.L.,
Bluetip,
Bill Wells,
Mark Hollis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cheater Slicks,
Visage,
Don Cherry,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fugs,
Reagan Youth,
Drexciya,
Y Pants,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
DJ Sneak,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cluster,
Crooked Eye,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gong,
The Gun Club,
Ponytail,
The Detroit Cobras,
Organ,
The Blackbyrds,
Hoover,
John Coltrane,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Gap Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Dave Clark Five,
One Last Wish,
Joey Negro,
The Star Department,
Godley & Creme,
The Sonics,
The Doors,
Brick,
Kayak,
Gregory Isaacs,
Intrusion,
Leonard Cohen,
The Angels of Light,
Colin Newman,
Cal Tjader,
Unrelated Segments,
Chrome,
Amon Düül,
Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Stooges,
Donny Hathaway,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.