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 Bangladesh and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin 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 UT to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Five Americans,
Donald Byrd,
Chris Corsano,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eve St. Jones,
Jacob Miller,
Brass Construction,
Sparks,
Main Source,
Bronski Beat,
DJ Sneak,
Freddie Wadling,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Bananas,
Morten Harket,
Albert Ayler,
Fatback Band,
Kayak,
Jawbox,
T.S.O.L.,
Saccharine Trust,
X-102,
Althea and Donna,
Guru Guru,
Thompson Twins,
Josef K,
Mo-Dettes,
The Victims,
Ronnie Foster,
The Gories,
The Beau Brummels,
Carl Craig,
Barry Ungar,
Can,
Bob Dylan,
Khruangbin,
A Certain Ratio,
Rotary Connection,
The Music Machine,
Erasure,
Yazoo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Graham Central Station,
World's Most,
Eurythmics,
The Star Department,
Black Sheep,
Basic Channel,
Adolescents,
Model 500,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minny Pops,
The Monochrome Set,
The Offenders,
The Blackbyrds,
Little Man,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Last Poets,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.