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 El Salvador and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Todd Terry to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ornette Coleman,
Livin' Joy,
Suburban Knight,
Pagans,
Magma,
Bill Wells,
Audionom,
Television Personalities,
Outsiders,
Qualms,
Reagan Youth,
Lucky Dragons,
the Swans,
The Pretty Things,
Talk Talk,
Colin Newman,
The Mummies,
Grauzone,
Bill Near,
Kas Product,
Nas,
Deadbeat,
The Moody Blues,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Flipper,
Jimmy McGriff,
Boz Scaggs,
Desert Stars,
Arcadia,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Country Teasers,
Bang On A Can,
John Coltrane,
Mandrill,
The J.B.'s,
Toni Rubio,
Sällskapet,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Barrington Levy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
X-101,
Black Flag,
Das Ding,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Little Man,
Godley & Creme,
Drive Like Jehu,
MC5,
Goldenarms,
Ohio Players,
Sugar Minott,
Ossler,
Moss Icon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lower 48,
Throbbing Gristle,
Prince Buster,
Blake Baxter,
Television,
Tres Demented,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Minnie Riperton,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.