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 Guinea-Bissau and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
The Kinks,
Wings,
The Real Kids,
David Axelrod,
The Gladiators,
Barrington Levy,
the Swans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Toni Rubio,
Audionom,
Vladislav Delay,
Albert Ayler,
Harmonia,
Soft Machine,
Cecil Taylor,
Suburban Knight,
Susan Cadogan,
Joe Finger,
the Sonics,
Sonny Sharrock,
Guru Guru,
Minnie Riperton,
Robert Wyatt,
Groovy Waters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Franke,
Colin Newman,
The Evens,
Danielle Patucci,
Agent Orange,
Patti Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Excepter,
The Mummies,
Oblivians,
Rosa Yemen,
Kaleidoscope,
Terry Callier,
L. Decosne,
Supertramp,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Zero Boys,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Happenings,
Lou Christie,
Barbara Tucker,
Khruangbin,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Golliwogs,
Anakelly,
Bizarre Inc.,
Alphaville,
Eddi Front,
AZ,
Accadde A,
Letta Mbulu,
Grandmaster Flash,
Graham Central Station,
Tears for Fears,
Marmalade,
Iggy Pop,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.