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 San Marino and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Index to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
48th St. Collective,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Names,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Average White Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Brand Nubian,
Eric Dolphy,
Cymande,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
X-102,
Roy Ayers,
Das Ding,
The Vogues,
Agitation Free,
Sly & The Family Stone,
In Retrospect,
Beasts of Bourbon,
B.T. Express,
The Pretty Things,
Robert Wyatt,
Loose Ends,
Bush Tetras,
Reagan Youth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hasil Adkins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wings,
Sister Nancy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rosa Yemen,
Mark Hollis,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Pus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jimmy McGriff,
Outsiders,
Thee Headcoats,
The Slackers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Happenings,
Deepchord,
Kenny Larkin,
Bluetip,
Soul II Soul,
Ronnie Foster,
Radiopuhelimet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Trojans,
Lindisfarne,
Tommy Roe,
Warren Ellis,
Chris Corsano,
Rapeman,
Oblivians,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.