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 Suriname and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Dorothy Ashby to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Dirtbombs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
ABBA,
Fad Gadget,
Scott Walker,
The Knickerbockers,
The Tremeloes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ornette Coleman,
Joe Smooth,
Nik Kershaw,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Livin' Joy,
Sonny Sharrock,
L. Decosne,
The Techniques,
Das Ding,
Amazonics,
Rapeman,
Lalann,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Intrusion,
Terrestrial Tones,
Talk Talk,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Byrd,
The Toasters,
Deadbeat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barry Ungar,
Excepter,
The Cramps,
John Cale,
Donald Byrd,
Alton Ellis,
Pere Ubu,
The Remains,
Black Flag,
One Last Wish,
8 Eyed Spy,
Brothers Johnson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Urselle,
Max Romeo,
Kerri Chandler,
The Leaves,
Swans,
Stereo Dub,
Ponytail,
The Index,
Dawn Penn,
the Slits,
Loose Ends,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ossler,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mark Hollis,
Man Parrish,
Patti Smith,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.