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 Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the rock 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
David Axelrod,
Ronan,
Cybotron,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
DJ Sneak,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chrome,
Leonard Cohen,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tears for Fears,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roger Hodgson,
Minor Threat,
Franke,
Spoonie Gee,
Scratch Acid,
The Monochrome Set,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Sheep,
The Names,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eve St. Jones,
Darondo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Stooges,
Kenny Larkin,
the Soft Cell,
Barrington Levy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Index,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Residents,
Grey Daturas,
Janne Schatter,
Wally Richardson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Tim Buckley,
Joey Negro,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mark Hollis,
Thompson Twins,
China Crisis,
Neu!,
Fat Boys,
Parry Music,
The Slackers,
Unwound,
Infiniti,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Erasure,
Pere Ubu,
Prince Buster,
Harry Pussy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Audionom,
Half Japanese,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.