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 India and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ 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 Goldenarms to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Tres Demented,
Roger Hodgson,
Jacques Brel,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Invisible,
Thompson Twins,
Nick Fraelich,
Tommy Roe,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alice Coltrane,
The Evens,
Faraquet,
Nirvana,
Gabor Szabo,
John Cale,
Wally Richardson,
Chris & Cosey,
Wire,
Spoonie Gee,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Mojo Men,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Icehouse,
Marmalade,
Quadrant,
These Immortal Souls,
Fear,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Monks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sun Ra,
World's Most,
Popol Vuh,
Crooked Eye,
Prince Buster,
Rapeman,
Buzzcocks,
DJ Style,
The Angels of Light,
Cal Tjader,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Khruangbin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Todd Terry,
X-102,
Dennis Brown,
Derrick May,
The Red Krayola,
The Happenings,
The Buckinghams,
The Young Rascals,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gichy Dan,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.