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 Dominica and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rhythm & Sound to the rap 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Eric Copeland,
Shoche,
John Foxx,
Cal Tjader,
Toni Rubio,
Cameo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hasil Adkins,
The Selecter,
Model 500,
Sun Ra,
Flipper,
Basic Channel,
Donald Byrd,
Lungfish,
The Martian,
Blossom Toes,
Danielle Patucci,
Scrapy,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fugs,
Isaac Hayes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Main Source,
Michelle Simonal,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Deepchord,
Anthony Braxton,
Adolescents,
Sarah Menescal,
Rotary Connection,
The Standells,
The Searchers,
X-102,
Bill Near,
Neu!,
The Blues Magoos,
Max Romeo,
Black Flag,
Boogie Down Productions,
Livin' Joy,
Niagra,
Yusef Lateef,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultravox,
Laurel Aitken,
Jandek,
Ronnie Foster,
KRS-One,
The Knickerbockers,
Throbbing Gristle,
New York Dolls,
Los Fastidios,
PIL,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gap Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.