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 Eritrea and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the electroclash 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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Swell Maps,
Ohio Players,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
JFA,
Chris Corsano,
The Saints,
Rufus Thomas,
The Standells,
The Raincoats,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Amazonics,
Fela Kuti,
Bronski Beat,
Bobby Sherman,
The Buckinghams,
Sugar Minott,
A Certain Ratio,
Marine Girls,
Jawbox,
Lakeside,
Animal Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gong,
Aswad,
The Victims,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fluxion,
Rotary Connection,
U.S. Maple,
Suicide,
The Pretty Things,
The Doors,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Echospace,
The Trojans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Kinks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tears for Fears,
The Stooges,
Barclay James Harvest,
Man Eating Sloth,
Big Daddy Kane,
China Crisis,
Jerry's Kids,
Wasted Youth,
Half Japanese,
Faraquet,
Amon Düül,
The Selecter,
World's Most,
Jacob Miller,
The Fugs,
The Toasters,
DNA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Arab on Radar,
The Fuzztones,
Sam Rivers,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.