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 Macedonia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the rock 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Magazine,
The Seeds,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ken Boothe,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Arcadia,
B.T. Express,
John Coltrane,
Alton Ellis,
Mark Hollis,
Connie Case,
Kerri Chandler,
Cluster,
Boredoms,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang of Four,
Joey Negro,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Darondo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
ABC,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Stooges,
Harry Pussy,
Grey Daturas,
Althea and Donna,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Duran Duran,
the Germs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Robert Wyatt,
The Vogues,
Bush Tetras,
Sparks,
Avey Tare,
Tears for Fears,
Albert Ayler,
The Move,
the Soft Cell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sister Nancy,
ABBA,
Rites of Spring,
John Holt,
Clear Light,
Mo-Dettes,
The Saints,
Mantronix,
The Leaves,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Metal Thangz,
Steve Hackett,
Schoolly D,
Yusef Lateef,
The Skatalites,
Drive Like Jehu,
Howard Jones,
Television,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eddi Front,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.