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 Cape Verde and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rufus Thomas to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Jesper Dahlback,
Black Pus,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Stetsasonic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Don Cherry,
The Names,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dark Day,
Negative Approach,
The Searchers,
Barbara Tucker,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Malaria!,
Thee Headcoats,
L. Decosne,
Swell Maps,
the Slits,
Grauzone,
Frankie Knuckles,
Subhumans,
Jandek,
Newcleus,
DNA,
Scientists,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
JFA,
The Motions,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kenny Larkin,
Sandy B,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nirvana,
Pussy Galore,
CMW,
The Move,
Blake Baxter,
T. Rex,
Outsiders,
The Gladiators,
Terry Callier,
Lebanon Hanover,
Section 25,
Mary Jane Girls,
Amazonics,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bill Near,
Buzzcocks,
Josef K,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Stooges,
Bronski Beat,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Trumans Water,
Bob Dylan,
Scan 7,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.