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 El Salvador and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 rhodes 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 Mantronix to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
The Residents,
The Smoke,
Lee Hazlewood,
Althea and Donna,
Sonny Sharrock,
Al Stewart,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Modern Lovers,
Andrew Hill,
Chris & Cosey,
Roy Ayers,
The Fall,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lindisfarne,
Das Ding,
Iggy Pop,
Spoonie Gee,
The Real Kids,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eric Copeland,
Boz Scaggs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Skaos,
B.T. Express,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Barry Ungar,
Janne Schatter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ponytail,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Faraquet,
Robert Wyatt,
Quantec,
Wire,
Underground Resistance,
Porter Ricks,
Lower 48,
Kevin Saunderson,
Vainqueur,
Eve St. Jones,
Bobby Byrd,
David Bowie,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Liliput,
Leonard Cohen,
Ludus,
8 Eyed Spy,
Slick Rick,
The Wake,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rekid,
Babytalk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joyce Sims,
Maleditus Sound,
Bang On A Can,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.