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 East Timor and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 June of 44 to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
These Immortal Souls,
Andrew Hill,
The Zeros,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Outsiders,
The Gladiators,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Grey Daturas,
Fatback Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Yellowson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dawn Penn,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Amon Düül,
The Durutti Column,
New Order,
Dark Day,
Dennis Brown,
DJ Sneak,
Ten City,
Brand Nubian,
Pussy Galore,
The Golliwogs,
Byron Stingily,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Judy Mowatt,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Moleskins,
The Slits,
Lindisfarne,
a-ha,
The Electric Prunes,
The Human League,
Aaron Thompson,
New York Dolls,
Letta Mbulu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jacques Brel,
FM Einheit,
Siglo XX,
Slave,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Skriet,
Oneida,
Ronnie Foster,
Nirvana,
Infiniti,
Erykah Badu,
Dead Boys,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Shuggie Otis,
Sarah Menescal,
The Mummies,
Royal Trux,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Half Japanese,
L. Decosne,
Pierre Henry,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.