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 Maldives and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron 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 Pantaleimon to the rock 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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
John Coltrane,
The Walker Brothers,
Blancmange,
The Last Poets,
T. Rex,
Al Stewart,
Make Up,
Popol Vuh,
Ultravox,
Blake Baxter,
DNA,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dawn Penn,
Sunsets and Hearts,
kango's stein massive,
Charles Mingus,
The Busters,
Bob Dylan,
Eli Mardock,
Q and Not U,
Todd Rundgren,
Mo-Dettes,
the Germs,
Minutemen,
Groovy Waters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Depeche Mode,
Michelle Simonal,
Vladislav Delay,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gabor Szabo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
ABBA,
Bobby Byrd,
Marvin Gaye,
Ornette Coleman,
Junior Murvin,
Stiv Bators,
Amazonics,
Judy Mowatt,
Sight & Sound,
Monks,
Blossom Toes,
Ohio Players,
The Electric Prunes,
Crash Course in Science,
Malaria!,
Royal Trux,
Bush Tetras,
K-Klass,
10cc,
Ituana,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sex Pistols,
Desert Stars,
Heaven 17,
Half Japanese,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.