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 Equatorial Guinea and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb 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 Scott Walker to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jacob Miller,
Porter Ricks,
Yusef Lateef,
Kerrie Biddell,
Morten Harket,
Henry Cow,
The Doobie Brothers,
X-Ray Spex,
Anakelly,
Electric Prunes,
Soft Machine,
Bronski Beat,
Severed Heads,
Ludus,
Joe Smooth,
Negative Approach,
Ultimate Spinach,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ice-T,
Chris & Cosey,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rapeman,
Warren Ellis,
Alice Coltrane,
Funky Four + One,
FM Einheit,
Organ,
DNA,
Dawn Penn,
Echospace,
Deepchord,
June Days,
Sun Ra,
The Blues Magoos,
The Detroit Cobras,
The New Christs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sex Pistols,
Faust,
Camberwell Now,
This Heat,
The Fugs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Camouflage,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pierre Henry,
Marine Girls,
Simply Red,
The United States of America,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pylon,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Infiniti,
Graham Central Station,
Moby Grape,
Roxy Music,
Gong,
Crispian St. Peters,
Don Cherry,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.