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 the UAE and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Grey Daturas,
Swans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nirvana,
Index,
The Smoke,
Brass Construction,
the Slits,
The Fuzztones,
Anthony Braxton,
Yaz,
Slave,
Hoover,
Junior Murvin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joey Negro,
Robert Hood,
Quadrant,
T.S.O.L.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Fire Engines,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Human League,
Carl Craig,
Wings,
cv313,
Make Up,
KRS-One,
Clear Light,
Joensuu 1685,
E-Dancer,
Darondo,
Silicon Teens,
Pole,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mandrill,
Peter & Gordon,
The Fugs,
Icehouse,
Can,
Moby Grape,
Soulsonic Force,
Second Layer,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Golliwogs,
Malaria!,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Amazonics,
The Five Americans,
The Electric Prunes,
Mo-Dettes,
FM Einheit,
Masters at Work,
The Residents,
The Pretty Things,
Absolute Body Control,
ABBA,
Oblivians,
Black Sheep,
K-Klass,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.