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 Rwanda 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bremen.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Donny Hathaway to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Bill Near,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soul Sonic Force,
Arcadia,
Rakim,
Pylon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Easy Going,
The Buckinghams,
Kaleidoscope,
The Vogues,
The Standells,
Bill Wells,
Mantronix,
The Litter,
48th St. Collective,
Henry Cow,
Can,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Massinfluence,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultravox,
Kerri Chandler,
Godley & Creme,
The Blues Magoos,
Index,
Throbbing Gristle,
Johnny Clarke,
Eden Ahbez,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Country Teasers,
Donny Hathaway,
Grandmaster Flash,
Brothers Johnson,
Excepter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Drexciya,
The Gun Club,
Ultimate Spinach,
Max Romeo,
Pussy Galore,
Rosa Yemen,
In Retrospect,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jacob Miller,
Cal Tjader,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hasil Adkins,
Hot Snakes,
Basic Channel,
The Neon Judgement,
Interpol,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Selecter,
The Techniques,
Maleditus Sound,
The Beau Brummels,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.