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 Malaysia and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Letta Mbulu to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
H. Thieme,
Prince Buster,
The Fall,
The Seeds,
The Invisible,
The Gun Club,
The Names,
The Toasters,
The Vogues,
Heaven 17,
Scrapy,
Crooked Eye,
Black Flag,
Kas Product,
The Modern Lovers,
Godley & Creme,
The Durutti Column,
Archie Shepp,
Outsiders,
Desert Stars,
The Smoke,
Youth Brigade,
Swans,
Crash Course in Science,
The Red Krayola,
EPMD,
Harry Pussy,
Aural Exciters,
Talk Talk,
Average White Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
U.S. Maple,
Jacques Brel,
The Tremeloes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Alison Limerick,
Dawn Penn,
Fela Kuti,
The Mummies,
Minnie Riperton,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Barracudas,
Quando Quango,
Model 500,
Soft Machine,
Pagans,
David Axelrod,
the Normal,
Main Source,
Aloha Tigers,
Ultimate Spinach,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Can,
X-Ray Spex,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Oneida,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.