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 Cambodia and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Quadrant to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sonny Sharrock,
Interpol,
X-102,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Count Five,
Tom Boy,
The Martian,
Pagans,
Nas,
The Invisible,
AZ,
DJ Style,
Au Pairs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Normal,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eric Copeland,
Crooked Eye,
Flamin' Groovies,
Faraquet,
Bobby Byrd,
the Slits,
Blake Baxter,
Pylon,
Rekid,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sound Behaviour,
Lebanon Hanover,
John Coltrane,
Groovy Waters,
Parry Music,
Goldenarms,
Mission of Burma,
Subhumans,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Quando Quango,
Lightning Bolt,
Crash Course in Science,
The Golliwogs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jacob Miller,
The Wake,
Oblivians,
Eric Dolphy,
Barbara Tucker,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Arcadia,
the Swans,
The Dead C,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Fall,
The Five Americans,
Alton Ellis,
June of 44,
The Blackbyrds,
Sällskapet,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.