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 Mongolia and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Barclay James Harvest,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Heaven 17,
Fela Kuti,
Altered Images,
Lungfish,
The Dave Clark Five,
Terrestrial Tones,
Outsiders,
The Evens,
Can,
John Lydon,
Dawn Penn,
B.T. Express,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cure,
Mandrill,
Main Source,
Robert Hood,
the Sonics,
Morten Harket,
Robert Wyatt,
Sexual Harrassment,
Loose Ends,
The Pretty Things,
Sugar Minott,
Anthony Braxton,
Johnny Clarke,
Wasted Youth,
Andrew Hill,
Essential Logic,
Lucky Dragons,
Camouflage,
Grey Daturas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Y Pants,
UT,
Shuggie Otis,
Cecil Taylor,
Boz Scaggs,
Suicide,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Trumans Water,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bluetip,
Sandy B,
Ronnie Foster,
Thee Headcoats,
Qualms,
Amazonics,
Albert Ayler,
Nirvana,
The Smiths,
Bobby Womack,
Q65,
Terry Callier,
The Gladiators,
Oneida,
Electric Prunes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.