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 Portugal and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Scientists to the punk 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Crime,
The Gladiators,
Reuben Wilson,
PIL,
the Human League,
The Gap Band,
Von Mondo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Animal Collective,
Joyce Sims,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Faraquet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eve St. Jones,
Isaac Hayes,
Erasure,
The Doors,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Soft Cell,
Eric B and Rakim,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Country Teasers,
Hoover,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
OOIOO,
Rotary Connection,
Nick Fraelich,
Boredoms,
Buzzcocks,
The Busters,
Skarface,
Shoche,
Laurel Aitken,
KRS-One,
Johnny Osbourne,
June of 44,
Tommy Roe,
The Toasters,
A Certain Ratio,
Metal Thangz,
The Electric Prunes,
Camouflage,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Last Poets,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ponytail,
Graham Central Station,
Ludus,
MC5,
Intrusion,
H. Thieme,
Chris Corsano,
Jeru the Damaja,
Man Parrish,
Boz Scaggs,
Khruangbin,
New Order,
Byron Stingily,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.