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 Tuvalu and from Philadelphia.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Idris Muhammad to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Unwound,
JFA,
John Cale,
Aural Exciters,
The Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The New Christs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Audionom,
The Happenings,
Radio Birdman,
The Monochrome Set,
Quantec,
Rufus Thomas,
Darondo,
June Days,
Robert Hood,
Sam Rivers,
Flash Fearless,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Gap Band,
Y Pants,
Deepchord,
Grey Daturas,
Iggy Pop,
The Raincoats,
Stereo Dub,
The Index,
Franke,
Sixth Finger,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Warsaw,
Dennis Brown,
the Sonics,
Pussy Galore,
Newcleus,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mr. Review,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Stetsasonic,
Main Source,
Andrew Hill,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
One Last Wish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pharoah Sanders,
Guru Guru,
Minutemen,
Cal Tjader,
The Standells,
Barbara Tucker,
Scientists,
Monolake,
Erykah Badu,
Eric Dolphy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Flesh Eaters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band.
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.