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 Saudi Arabia and from Spokane.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Jesper Dahlback to the grime 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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Silicon Teens,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Suburban Knight,
Tomorrow,
D'Angelo,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Velvet Underground,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Funkadelic,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fire Engines,
Simply Red,
The Victims,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Anthony Braxton,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Hoover,
Malaria!,
Wasted Youth,
The Slits,
F. McDonald,
Susan Cadogan,
Rites of Spring,
Jeff Lynne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Last Poets,
Bauhaus,
Gang of Four,
Japan,
Johnny Clarke,
Nas,
The Monks,
T. Rex,
The Star Department,
Rapeman,
Kerri Chandler,
Arthur Verocai,
Royal Trux,
Chris & Cosey,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sandy B,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Minor Threat,
Mr. Review,
Newcleus,
Mantronix,
Lucky Dragons,
Absolute Body Control,
Connie Case,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Suicide,
The Fuzztones,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The J.B.'s,
Mandrill,
Mission of Burma,
Das Ding,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.