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 Papua New Guinea and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Traffic Nightmare 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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eden Ahbez record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
The Busters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Sonics,
Johnny Clarke,
The Zeros,
Jacques Brel,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Byron Stingily,
10cc,
Letta Mbulu,
Altered Images,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Knickerbockers,
Vainqueur,
X-101,
Aural Exciters,
Gabor Szabo,
Country Teasers,
Ponytail,
Fugazi,
Ronnie Foster,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jerry's Kids,
The Residents,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Barbara Tucker,
Junior Murvin,
Moby Grape,
MC5,
Pantytec,
Royal Trux,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roger Hodgson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
China Crisis,
Minnie Riperton,
The Modern Lovers,
Essential Logic,
The Associates,
Swell Maps,
Terry Callier,
Shoche,
Robert Görl,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Urselle,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jawbox,
Circle Jerks,
DJ Style,
Scientists,
Lyres,
Aswad,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Liliput,
The Slackers,
Jandek,
Lalann,
Easy Going,
Niagra,
Max Romeo,
Roy Ayers,
The Toasters,
Erykah Badu,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.