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 Cape Verde and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Morten Harket to the disco 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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Franke,
Interpol,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Chrome,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Supertramp,
Popol Vuh,
Minutemen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Can,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Girls At Our Best!,
Babytalk,
The Cowsills,
Mark Hollis,
Ludus,
Bill Wells,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ronan,
Grey Daturas,
Idris Muhammad,
The Barracudas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Essential Logic,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Stiv Bators,
The Real Kids,
Scratch Acid,
Bob Dylan,
The Motions,
Cameo,
AZ,
Sight & Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
Bluetip,
Albert Ayler,
Leonard Cohen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fugazi,
The American Breed,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hot Snakes,
Freddie Wadling,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Oneida,
Warren Ellis,
The Black Dice,
Todd Terry,
Pierre Henry,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fatback Band,
Dead Boys,
The Five Americans,
Young Marble Giants,
Sam Rivers,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.