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 Russia and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the marimba 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 Andrew Hill to the grime 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Mars,
Soft Cell,
10cc,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sällskapet,
The Neon Judgement,
Ultra Naté,
Black Bananas,
The Stooges,
the Human League,
Main Source,
Bauhaus,
Amon Düül II,
the Association,
Black Moon,
Junior Murvin,
Jacob Miller,
The Cramps,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Slackers,
Rosa Yemen,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Golliwogs,
Stetsasonic,
Andrew Hill,
Jawbox,
Smog,
Funkadelic,
Bobby Sherman,
Magazine,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Steve Hackett,
Warren Ellis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Anthony Braxton,
Silicon Teens,
Easy Going,
Goldenarms,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gong,
Iggy Pop,
Dorothy Ashby,
Laurel Aitken,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Drive Like Jehu,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Green,
Section 25,
Joe Finger,
Fad Gadget,
Model 500,
Patti Smith,
Erasure,
Alphaville,
Darondo,
Janne Schatter,
Ken Boothe,
David Bowie,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.