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 Iraq and from Hong Kong.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Malaria! to the punk 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Warren Ellis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Skriet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Juan Atkins,
Roger Hodgson,
Parry Music,
Cheater Slicks,
Harry Pussy,
Al Stewart,
Index,
Bill Wells,
48th St. Collective,
New Age Steppers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roxy Music,
Terry Callier,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nik Kershaw,
Babytalk,
The Offenders,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lalann,
Kurtis Blow,
Robert Wyatt,
James White and The Blacks,
Todd Rundgren,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rapeman,
The Sonics,
Dead Boys,
Monolake,
Mandrill,
Scan 7,
World's Most,
Siglo XX,
The Gladiators,
Barry Ungar,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rosa Yemen,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Cramps,
Funkadelic,
Susan Cadogan,
Television Personalities,
Surgeon,
Angry Samoans,
K-Klass,
Pierre Henry,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sight & Sound,
The Techniques,
Joe Smooth,
the Soft Cell,
Masters at Work,
Essential Logic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Chris & Cosey,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.