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 Belarus and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
June Days,
Johnny Osbourne,
Shuggie Otis,
Suicide,
Fugazi,
Royal Trux,
The Beau Brummels,
Lightning Bolt,
Simply Red,
Eric Dolphy,
Camberwell Now,
Pole,
Carl Craig,
Masters at Work,
John Coltrane,
Harry Pussy,
James White and The Blacks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Guru Guru,
Junior Murvin,
Flipper,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Selecter,
Dual Sessions,
World's Most,
Howard Jones,
Dennis Brown,
Crispy Ambulance,
Andrew Hill,
10cc,
The Monochrome Set,
Theoretical Girls,
Ossler,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Alton Ellis,
Bill Wells,
Soul Sonic Force,
Urselle,
Sun City Girls,
Jawbox,
Tres Demented,
Lakeside,
Bill Near,
Danielle Patucci,
Skarface,
Yusef Lateef,
Jacques Brel,
The Gories,
The Pretty Things,
the Bar-Kays,
Cluster,
Janne Schatter,
The Slits,
Joe Smooth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Gladiators,
The Black Dice,
Harpers Bizarre,
Echospace,
the Germs,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.