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 Equatorial Guinea and from New York.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tomorrow to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Slick Rick,
Rekid,
Eddi Front,
Joey Negro,
The Saints,
Lakeside,
The Skatalites,
kango's stein massive,
Lee Hazlewood,
Half Japanese,
Faraquet,
Moss Icon,
Hardrive,
Idris Muhammad,
The Barracudas,
Barrington Levy,
Agent Orange,
Bob Dylan,
Marine Girls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eric Dolphy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Slits,
Ronan,
John Coltrane,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tropical Tobacco,
Model 500,
Joy Division,
Black Sheep,
The Cowsills,
DJ Sneak,
Aaron Thompson,
Charles Mingus,
Mission of Burma,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sonic Youth,
AZ,
Black Pus,
Jeff Lynne,
Franke,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rites of Spring,
Fugazi,
Negative Approach,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Alice Coltrane,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Delta 5,
EPMD,
Juan Atkins,
the Association,
Joe Smooth,
The Raincoats,
Theoretical Girls,
Jawbox,
Schoolly D,
Amon Düül II,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.