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 Madagascar and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Tim Buckley to the punk 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Excepter,
The Victims,
Panda Bear,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lee Hazlewood,
These Immortal Souls,
The Toasters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Alice Coltrane,
Tim Buckley,
The Offenders,
The Motions,
Morten Harket,
Ronan,
Joyce Sims,
Shuggie Otis,
Los Fastidios,
Scratch Acid,
Ralphi Rosario,
MC5,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Flash Fearless,
Joensuu 1685,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hardrive,
Max Romeo,
Icehouse,
Neil Young,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Porter Ricks,
Clear Light,
Livin' Joy,
Jacob Miller,
Nation of Ulysses,
Echospace,
Chris & Cosey,
The Human League,
Susan Cadogan,
Harry Pussy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Colin Newman,
Ultimate Spinach,
Easy Going,
H. Thieme,
Camberwell Now,
The Vogues,
Unrelated Segments,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Cowsills,
This Heat,
Wolf Eyes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rakim,
Nas,
Mission of Burma,
Nick Fraelich,
Deepchord,
Sällskapet,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.