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 France and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ralphi Rosario to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eve St. Jones,
Television,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ornette Coleman,
The Martian,
Spoonie Gee,
MC5,
Rufus Thomas,
Kevin Saunderson,
Oneida,
Saccharine Trust,
Rekid,
Derrick May,
The American Breed,
Massinfluence,
The Modern Lovers,
Sam Rivers,
The Vogues,
Scan 7,
The Human League,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Alice Coltrane,
Organ,
Harpers Bizarre,
Urselle,
The Busters,
Anthony Braxton,
John Coltrane,
Amazonics,
48th St. Collective,
The Invisible,
DNA,
Malaria!,
Quadrant,
Trumans Water,
OOIOO,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Isaac Hayes,
Amon Düül,
The Five Americans,
Second Layer,
Tim Buckley,
Jimmy McGriff,
Robert Görl,
Man Parrish,
Interpol,
The Birthday Party,
Blake Baxter,
The Real Kids,
Black Moon,
Crash Course in Science,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mandrill,
Marvin Gaye,
Q and Not U,
Scott Walker,
Soulsonic Force,
Dawn Penn,
Alison Limerick,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.