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 Malaysia and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Smog to the jazz 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Urselle,
Jacob Miller,
Minutemen,
Trumans Water,
E-Dancer,
Half Japanese,
Davy DMX,
Soft Cell,
MDC,
Q and Not U,
Max Romeo,
Visage,
Cal Tjader,
Pere Ubu,
Sugar Minott,
Black Moon,
Bill Near,
Eyeless In Gaza,
James White and The Blacks,
The Neon Judgement,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Brass Construction,
DJ Sneak,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Real Kids,
Kas Product,
Crooked Eye,
Hashim,
Pylon,
The Misunderstood,
Jerry's Kids,
Radio Birdman,
Wasted Youth,
One Last Wish,
Stereo Dub,
Amon Düül II,
Marshall Jefferson,
In Retrospect,
Black Bananas,
Panda Bear,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bush Tetras,
Charles Mingus,
Clear Light,
The Cowsills,
Soft Machine,
Royal Trux,
Todd Rundgren,
The Five Americans,
X-101,
Ornette Coleman,
John Coltrane,
The Knickerbockers,
Organ,
Adolescents,
Mission of Burma,
The Offenders,
Henry Cow,
JFA,
The Cramps,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.