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 Gabon and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Derrick May 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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Siglo XX,
The Electric Prunes,
Pulsallama,
Rekid,
Sex Pistols,
Radio Birdman,
Marvin Gaye,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kaleidoscope,
Gichy Dan,
Suicide,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grauzone,
Depeche Mode,
Howard Jones,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Graham Central Station,
Funky Four + One,
Sexual Harrassment,
Supertramp,
Faraquet,
The Dead C,
The Count Five,
Faust,
FM Einheit,
The Busters,
The Invisible,
Subhumans,
Avey Tare,
Aaron Thompson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ten City,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Donald Byrd,
The Saints,
Don Cherry,
the Normal,
Moby Grape,
DNA,
Marshall Jefferson,
Soft Machine,
Main Source,
Junior Murvin,
Nico,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Deadbeat,
Anthony Braxton,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Trumans Water,
Patti Smith,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eurythmics,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Golliwogs,
L. Decosne,
Hot Snakes,
Glenn Branca,
Todd Rundgren,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.