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 Guinea-Bissau and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 Cybotron to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Visage,
June of 44,
Circle Jerks,
Faraquet,
Black Pus,
Stetsasonic,
Hardrive,
Organ,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ken Boothe,
Pantytec,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kevin Saunderson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lalann,
Bang On A Can,
The Gun Club,
Bauhaus,
Can,
Minny Pops,
Scrapy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ponytail,
Althea and Donna,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Banda Bassotti,
Scan 7,
Magma,
Dual Sessions,
Kerri Chandler,
Ornette Coleman,
Pagans,
Brand Nubian,
Electric Light Orchestra,
John Foxx,
The Toasters,
Fela Kuti,
The Monochrome Set,
Jeff Lynne,
Sonic Youth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Spoonie Gee,
The Wake,
Aloha Tigers,
Desert Stars,
The Gladiators,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Soft Machine,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nick Fraelich,
Mars,
Subhumans,
Yaz,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nas,
The Black Dice,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Moleskins,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.