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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Jimmy McGriff to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Alice Coltrane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Byrd,
Fluxion,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Sherman,
The Star Department,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Hashim,
Suburban Knight,
Roy Ayers,
Goldenarms,
Harmonia,
The Stooges,
The Modern Lovers,
Black Pus,
Qualms,
Country Teasers,
Marvin Gaye,
The Blues Magoos,
Mark Hollis,
Moss Icon,
FM Einheit,
Lucky Dragons,
Letta Mbulu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joey Negro,
Faust,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Moon,
Simply Red,
The Cure,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fortunes,
Anthony Braxton,
The Sonics,
Camberwell Now,
Maleditus Sound,
Albert Ayler,
K-Klass,
Kool Moe Dee,
Japan,
Angry Samoans,
The Last Poets,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Connie Case,
Amon Düül,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Soft Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Angels of Light,
Cluster,
The Selecter,
Index,
Clear Light,
U.S. Maple,
Siglo XX,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cecil Taylor,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.