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 Bangladesh and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Idris Muhammad to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Alison Limerick,
The Toasters,
X-101,
Gastr Del Sol,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nation of Ulysses,
The J.B.'s,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gichy Dan,
Ten City,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
One Last Wish,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arcadia,
The Beau Brummels,
the Fania All-Stars,
June of 44,
Crash Course in Science,
Andrew Hill,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Porter Ricks,
Inner City,
Babytalk,
The Names,
Pole,
The Grass Roots,
the Human League,
Lungfish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Shuggie Otis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Supertramp,
Grauzone,
The Flesh Eaters,
Skarface,
Nils Olav,
Jerry's Kids,
Soft Machine,
Yusef Lateef,
Judy Mowatt,
Joe Finger,
Deadbeat,
The Residents,
Bronski Beat,
John Holt,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultravox,
New Order,
Don Cherry,
Chris Corsano,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Man Eating Sloth,
Susan Cadogan,
Sandy B,
The Detroit Cobras,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Symarip,
Mary Jane Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.