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 Romania and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar 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 L. Decosne to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Joe Finger,
Wolf Eyes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gang of Four,
The Raincoats,
Sex Pistols,
Kenny Larkin,
Symarip,
DNA,
Moebius,
Liliput,
The Fortunes,
Ronnie Foster,
The Pretty Things,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cybotron,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cecil Taylor,
Q and Not U,
Black Pus,
Max Romeo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Theoretical Girls,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Count Five,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cymande,
Dawn Penn,
Dorothy Ashby,
Subhumans,
Blake Baxter,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Tremeloes,
Soul Sonic Force,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lebanon Hanover,
Radiohead,
Carl Craig,
Derrick Morgan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Erasure,
Gang Gang Dance,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eric Dolphy,
B.T. Express,
The Neon Judgement,
Rhythm & Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dave Clark Five,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grey Daturas,
Al Stewart,
Zero Boys,
The Electric Prunes,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.