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 Bahrain and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Sao Paulo.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Warsaw to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Kurtis Blow,
The Mojo Men,
Crime,
Pulsallama,
Malaria!,
The Detroit Cobras,
X-101,
Rhythm & Sound,
Prince Buster,
Harry Pussy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fluxion,
Nils Olav,
Soul Sonic Force,
Henry Cow,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Agitation Free,
Cymande,
Sonny Sharrock,
Animal Collective,
Gang of Four,
Parry Music,
The Young Rascals,
Eden Ahbez,
Hasil Adkins,
Massinfluence,
The Fall,
Ronnie Foster,
Youth Brigade,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cybotron,
the Human League,
Cecil Taylor,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Smoke,
Subhumans,
Monolake,
Qualms,
Minnie Riperton,
Scion,
The Standells,
Arthur Verocai,
Kevin Saunderson,
Funky Four + One,
Lalann,
The Monks,
Das Ding,
The Wake,
Mad Mike,
Rufus Thomas,
Wolf Eyes,
The Slackers,
Minny Pops,
Robert Görl,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jandek,
Sound Behaviour,
UT,
Howard Jones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Five Americans,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.