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 Malta and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Banda Bassotti to the jazz 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
The Motions,
Pussy Galore,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Durutti Column,
Funkadelic,
Bronski Beat,
Wasted Youth,
Letta Mbulu,
Minny Pops,
The Smiths,
T.S.O.L.,
Crooked Eye,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mars,
John Coltrane,
Ken Boothe,
Scientists,
The Real Kids,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Selecter,
Nirvana,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sandy B,
the Soft Cell,
Mantronix,
Saccharine Trust,
Grey Daturas,
The Moody Blues,
Boredoms,
Janne Schatter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Youth Brigade,
Susan Cadogan,
Sam Rivers,
Blake Baxter,
Gong,
Wolf Eyes,
David McCallum,
Dawn Penn,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Zeros,
a-ha,
The Gladiators,
One Last Wish,
Ludus,
The Seeds,
Amon Düül,
The Grass Roots,
FM Einheit,
The Standells,
The Last Poets,
The Litter,
The Trojans,
Fear,
K-Klass,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Deakin,
the Fania All-Stars,
cv313,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.