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 Uganda and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ice-T to the rap 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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
The Knickerbockers,
Fat Boys,
Eddi Front,
Johnny Osbourne,
Swell Maps,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mandrill,
Joensuu 1685,
Crime,
Charles Mingus,
Moebius,
Neu!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Derrick Morgan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kerri Chandler,
The Zeros,
Peter & Gordon,
Don Cherry,
Lalann,
Boogie Down Productions,
La Düsseldorf,
Harry Pussy,
Underground Resistance,
Funky Four + One,
Hoover,
The Slackers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joe Finger,
Hasil Adkins,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nick Fraelich,
The New Christs,
The Fortunes,
Pulsallama,
Suburban Knight,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mr. Review,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Shuggie Otis,
Eve St. Jones,
Moss Icon,
Todd Rundgren,
Q and Not U,
DNA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kaleidoscope,
Piero Umiliani,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Althea and Donna,
Hot Snakes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Duran Duran,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rekid,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mo-Dettes,
Aswad,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.