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 Rwanda and from Hong Kong.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Roy Ayers,
Arab on Radar,
The Standells,
Magma,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Negative Approach,
The Fortunes,
Aswad,
Schoolly D,
JFA,
Aloha Tigers,
the Normal,
The Blackbyrds,
Tropical Tobacco,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jeff Mills,
Andrew Hill,
Porter Ricks,
the Soft Cell,
Hardrive,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Half Japanese,
Buzzcocks,
Agent Orange,
Kerri Chandler,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Remains,
The Divine Comedy,
FM Einheit,
Warsaw,
The Smoke,
Sun Ra,
The Mummies,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kaleidoscope,
John Holt,
Niagra,
The Birthday Party,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dawn Penn,
Severed Heads,
Jandek,
The Alarm Clocks,
Interpol,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cymande,
The Neon Judgement,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lucky Dragons,
Zero Boys,
Amon Düül II,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Letta Mbulu,
Electric Prunes,
Crooked Eye,
Throbbing Gristle,
Franke,
Scientists,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cameo,
Chris Corsano,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.