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 Mauritius and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare 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 Eric Dolphy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nation of Ulysses,
Neil Young,
Letta Mbulu,
Howard Jones,
Arthur Verocai,
Guru Guru,
Royal Trux,
Bob Dylan,
Minutemen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Neu!,
Boogie Down Productions,
Godley & Creme,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
China Crisis,
The Dead C,
Eli Mardock,
Heaven 17,
Warsaw,
Black Moon,
X-102,
Al Stewart,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Smiths,
Aaron Thompson,
Suburban Knight,
Moby Grape,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Byrd,
Monolake,
X-101,
Nils Olav,
June Days,
The Doobie Brothers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Hot Snakes,
Yusef Lateef,
The Count Five,
The Fall,
Sixth Finger,
Animal Collective,
The Sonics,
Kool Moe Dee,
cv313,
Glenn Branca,
The Velvet Underground,
Jacques Brel,
Sunsets and Hearts,
EPMD,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crash Course in Science,
kango's stein massive,
Archie Shepp,
The Cramps,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Swans,
The Smoke,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Young Rascals,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.