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 Mauritius and from New York.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
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 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 Holger Czukay 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 D'Angelo to the disco 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
The Fall,
Little Man,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Monolake,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Boredoms,
Bill Near,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Neon Judgement,
The Count Five,
The Gories,
Laurel Aitken,
Mo-Dettes,
Flipper,
Bobby Byrd,
Eve St. Jones,
The Zeros,
Quantec,
Joensuu 1685,
Lakeside,
Visage,
Ituana,
The Seeds,
Amazonics,
Bronski Beat,
The Mummies,
Minutemen,
Sparks,
Cal Tjader,
F. McDonald,
Boz Scaggs,
Bootsy Collins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Niagra,
Alton Ellis,
Public Image Ltd.,
Half Japanese,
Peter and Kerry,
Vladislav Delay,
Nik Kershaw,
Roxette,
Gong,
Moss Icon,
Minny Pops,
Charles Mingus,
Thee Headcoats,
Con Funk Shun,
The Raincoats,
Urselle,
Letta Mbulu,
Pantaleimon,
The Standells,
Flamin' Groovies,
T. Rex,
Kayak,
Swans,
Grey Daturas,
Electric Prunes,
Q and Not U,
Shoche,
Alice Coltrane,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.