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 Djibouti and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet 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 Idris Muhammad to the disco 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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Camouflage,
Inner City,
Newcleus,
Fatback Band,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Pantaleimon,
James White and The Blacks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Happenings,
Urselle,
JFA,
The Victims,
Kas Product,
Alice Coltrane,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crooked Eye,
Ornette Coleman,
Bad Manners,
Deakin,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Monochrome Set,
Malaria!,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Darondo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Young Rascals,
Eve St. Jones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Moss Icon,
Drexciya,
The Pretty Things,
Toni Rubio,
Whodini,
the Bar-Kays,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cal Tjader,
The Residents,
Prince Buster,
These Immortal Souls,
The Cowsills,
Tom Boy,
Pole,
The Sound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Roxette,
Sun City Girls,
Pantytec,
Eurythmics,
Black Moon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eric Dolphy,
Scientists,
Derrick May,
Bill Near,
Moby Grape,
Jawbox,
Franke,
Todd Rundgren,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.