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 Malawi and from Calgary.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Flesh Eaters to the rap 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Fluxion,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Niagra,
Metal Thangz,
Man Parrish,
FM Einheit,
The Beau Brummels,
Sixth Finger,
Mission of Burma,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Little Man,
Silicon Teens,
Slick Rick,
Simply Red,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mr. Review,
Livin' Joy,
Chris & Cosey,
Whodini,
Sam Rivers,
Rapeman,
PIL,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sugar Minott,
Negative Approach,
Stereo Dub,
The American Breed,
The Slits,
L. Decosne,
Eric Dolphy,
Unwound,
China Crisis,
The Busters,
Aural Exciters,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Modern Lovers,
Y Pants,
The Doors,
Boz Scaggs,
The Blackbyrds,
Juan Atkins,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Groovy Waters,
The Music Machine,
Joyce Sims,
Accadde A,
Sarah Menescal,
Ice-T,
Barbara Tucker,
Skaos,
The Litter,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Associates,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pussy Galore,
Brick,
Television,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.