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 Lebanon and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
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 Gabor Szabo to the grime 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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Donald Byrd,
Kevin Saunderson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Popol Vuh,
Thee Headcoats,
Spandau Ballet,
Talk Talk,
Soul II Soul,
Symarip,
Mandrill,
Lyres,
Jeff Lynne,
DJ Sneak,
X-101,
Althea and Donna,
The American Breed,
New Age Steppers,
Hasil Adkins,
Stereo Dub,
The Misunderstood,
Joyce Sims,
Roy Ayers,
Deakin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pussy Galore,
Soft Cell,
Swans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Unwound,
The Sonics,
Ultravox,
Parry Music,
Cal Tjader,
Sandy B,
Leonard Cohen,
Outsiders,
Rites of Spring,
Erykah Badu,
Peter and Kerry,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Brothers Johnson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Blues Magoos,
DJ Style,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ronan,
Index,
Arab on Radar,
The Gladiators,
Vladislav Delay,
Sam Rivers,
Crime,
Metal Thangz,
Stetsasonic,
Wally Richardson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Clear Light,
Suicide,
Mad Mike,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
AZ,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.