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 Cambodia and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Make Up to the dance 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
The Black Dice,
John Foxx,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Al Stewart,
Pole,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Motorama,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Zero Boys,
Gastr Del Sol,
Icehouse,
Marine Girls,
The Saints,
H. Thieme,
Mo-Dettes,
Ornette Coleman,
Cameo,
Con Funk Shun,
Surgeon,
Crispian St. Peters,
New Order,
Symarip,
Soft Cell,
Alphaville,
Scion,
Joyce Sims,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fortunes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eric Dolphy,
Boz Scaggs,
Slave,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Standells,
the Germs,
U.S. Maple,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Star Department,
Aural Exciters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joe Smooth,
Barrington Levy,
The Mojo Men,
Joy Division,
Patti Smith,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roy Ayers,
Ponytail,
Jacques Brel,
Black Flag,
China Crisis,
Kevin Saunderson,
Warsaw,
Minny Pops,
48th St. Collective,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.