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 Albania and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare 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 Dark Day to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sixth Finger,
DJ Style,
Public Enemy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Moebius,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Germs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Byrd,
Suicide,
Laurel Aitken,
Amon Düül,
JFA,
Chris Corsano,
Yellowson,
Yazoo,
Rod Modell,
Ice-T,
Jawbox,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Soulsonic Force,
A Certain Ratio,
Susan Cadogan,
Dawn Penn,
Graham Central Station,
Jacques Brel,
Ken Boothe,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Spoonie Gee,
Stiv Bators,
Outsiders,
Minutemen,
Bluetip,
Deadbeat,
The Red Krayola,
Scientists,
Fatback Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Black Moon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gichy Dan,
Nirvana,
Duran Duran,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Amazonics,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Fortunes,
Aswad,
Big Daddy Kane,
X-Ray Spex,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Magma,
The Flesh Eaters,
Spandau Ballet,
Deepchord,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.