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 Monaco and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
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 guitar 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 The Zeros to the rock 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Minny Pops,
Suicide,
a-ha,
H. Thieme,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jandek,
Bill Near,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Shuggie Otis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Wake,
Curtis Mayfield,
Guru Guru,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Clear Light,
Quando Quango,
Panda Bear,
Kaleidoscope,
R.M.O.,
Inner City,
Chris Corsano,
The Electric Prunes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jacques Brel,
Camouflage,
Archie Shepp,
Frankie Knuckles,
Juan Atkins,
Joe Finger,
Albert Ayler,
Freddie Wadling,
Masters at Work,
Unwound,
Bluetip,
Don Cherry,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Dead C,
The New Christs,
Siglo XX,
Moebius,
Rekid,
The Music Machine,
Camberwell Now,
10cc,
Spoonie Gee,
The Walker Brothers,
The Slackers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Model 500,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chrome,
48th St. Collective,
the Bar-Kays,
The Slits,
LL Cool J,
UT,
Young Marble Giants,
The Vogues,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.