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 Kuwait and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Barclay James Harvest to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Deepchord,
F. McDonald,
Faust,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Hood,
Alton Ellis,
Letta Mbulu,
L. Decosne,
Eric Copeland,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Barbara Tucker,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ronan,
Erykah Badu,
Scientists,
The Cowsills,
The Mummies,
Ultravox,
The Fuzztones,
Althea and Donna,
The Sonics,
Young Marble Giants,
Marine Girls,
Amon Düül,
The Searchers,
John Lydon,
Bobby Byrd,
Khruangbin,
Ronnie Foster,
Suburban Knight,
Reuben Wilson,
Bob Dylan,
Parry Music,
Pussy Galore,
Todd Terry,
Yazoo,
The Mojo Men,
Unwound,
Jacob Miller,
H. Thieme,
Dennis Brown,
cv313,
Goldenarms,
Carl Craig,
FM Einheit,
World's Most,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Prince Buster,
Moebius,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Angry Samoans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Crooked Eye,
Gabor Szabo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
8 Eyed Spy,
Whodini,
Mad Mike,
The Birthday Party,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.