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 Botswana and from Lyon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 T. Rex to the techno 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Black Moon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Theoretical Girls,
Unrelated Segments,
Bootsy Collins,
Technova,
Aaron Thompson,
The Cramps,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Dirtbombs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dark Day,
Fela Kuti,
The Monochrome Set,
The Names,
Sandy B,
The Happenings,
This Heat,
Alice Coltrane,
Mars,
Crash Course in Science,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Y Pants,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Index,
Ultravox,
The Cowsills,
Symarip,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ponytail,
Eli Mardock,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cymande,
Ten City,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eurythmics,
Cameo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
David McCallum,
Davy DMX,
Amazonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Slits,
Bob Dylan,
Sällskapet,
Crispy Ambulance,
Suburban Knight,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sugar Minott,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sixth Finger,
Johnny Clarke,
EPMD,
Judy Mowatt,
These Immortal Souls,
Radiohead,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Japan,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.