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 East Timor and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Lucky Dragons to the dance 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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Juan Atkins,
The Zeros,
The Fall,
The Fugs,
Nik Kershaw,
The Star Department,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Alarm Clocks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ossler,
Yazoo,
Porter Ricks,
Barry Ungar,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cameo,
Nas,
Barrington Levy,
Connie Case,
Grey Daturas,
Tim Buckley,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grandmaster Flash,
Saccharine Trust,
The Dirtbombs,
Archie Shepp,
The Durutti Column,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stetsasonic,
Loose Ends,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mad Mike,
Soul II Soul,
Niagra,
The Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
Essential Logic,
Todd Rundgren,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wally Richardson,
Zapp,
Banda Bassotti,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Vladislav Delay,
Max Romeo,
One Last Wish,
Infiniti,
Gang Gang Dance,
Brothers Johnson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Robert Görl,
Quantec,
Mandrill,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sparks,
Idris Muhammad,
David Axelrod,
Dennis Brown,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Slackers,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.