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 New Zealand and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ 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 Letta Mbulu to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
The Fortunes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rufus Thomas,
The Monochrome Set,
The Residents,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marc Almond,
Archie Shepp,
Girls At Our Best!,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mars,
Johnny Clarke,
Suicide,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gichy Dan,
Alison Limerick,
Eden Ahbez,
Alton Ellis,
Dead Boys,
Hoover,
Skarface,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mary Jane Girls,
Excepter,
Smog,
the Bar-Kays,
Isaac Hayes,
Saccharine Trust,
the Swans,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bad Manners,
Kayak,
Yaz,
Albert Ayler,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sun Ra,
Scientists,
Amon Düül,
Godley & Creme,
Jacob Miller,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deadbeat,
Cheater Slicks,
Skriet,
Rod Modell,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sparks,
Ohio Players,
Clear Light,
Supertramp,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Darondo,
Symarip,
Donald Byrd,
Anakelly,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gories,
Country Teasers,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.