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 Congo and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe 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 Neil Young 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Leonard Cohen,
Adolescents,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Duran Duran,
The Dirtbombs,
Sun City Girls,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sugar Minott,
Qualms,
Sister Nancy,
Saccharine Trust,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Loose Ends,
Niagra,
Al Stewart,
Marc Almond,
Peter and Kerry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
L. Decosne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Walker Brothers,
Matthew Bourne,
Delta 5,
The Cowsills,
Goldenarms,
Aural Exciters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Blossom Toes,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gladiators,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Pretty Things,
Groovy Waters,
Ohio Players,
The Fugs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The American Breed,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Coltrane,
Oneida,
Fad Gadget,
Electric Prunes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
DJ Style,
Country Teasers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mad Mike,
Glenn Branca,
Hoover,
Q and Not U,
Whodini,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fugazi,
The Martian,
Moebius,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.