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 Swaziland and from Spokane.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Khruangbin to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Minny Pops,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minor Threat,
DJ Sneak,
Subhumans,
Suicide,
New Order,
Gang of Four,
Pulsallama,
Kerri Chandler,
The Cure,
Joyce Sims,
Mandrill,
The Golliwogs,
AZ,
K-Klass,
The Evens,
The Sound,
Magma,
Joe Finger,
The Motions,
Marvin Gaye,
Jeru the Damaja,
Section 25,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Shuggie Otis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Suburban Knight,
Magazine,
Tropical Tobacco,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lalo Schifrin,
Urselle,
The Buckinghams,
Qualms,
Aaron Thompson,
A Certain Ratio,
John Holt,
Kas Product,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Isaac Hayes,
Lower 48,
Gerry Rafferty,
Second Layer,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Quando Quango,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Rakim,
Joensuu 1685,
Wally Richardson,
Bill Near,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Das Ding,
Charles Mingus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lyres,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.