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 Guyana and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Cameo to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Altered Images,
Brass Construction,
Infiniti,
The Happenings,
The Fire Engines,
The Cowsills,
Accadde A,
Dennis Brown,
Gang of Four,
B.T. Express,
The Offenders,
Eddi Front,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ice-T,
Robert Wyatt,
The Grass Roots,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Real Kids,
Alton Ellis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Little Man,
The Dirtbombs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Divine Comedy,
Public Enemy,
Das Ding,
Hot Snakes,
Fugazi,
Byron Stingily,
Derrick Morgan,
the Sonics,
Bluetip,
Niagra,
Nik Kershaw,
Crooked Eye,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Heaven 17,
KRS-One,
The Velvet Underground,
Harry Pussy,
The Associates,
The Electric Prunes,
The Seeds,
Oblivians,
Gichy Dan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Chrome,
Sällskapet,
Gong,
Organ,
Talk Talk,
Pussy Galore,
Qualms,
Stetsasonic,
Amon Düül,
Soulsonic Force,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.