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 Sweden and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Move to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian 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?
Fugazi,
Buzzcocks,
Mission of Burma,
The Durutti Column,
Lalann,
Kevin Saunderson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Hashim,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gastr Del Sol,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ronnie Foster,
Jawbox,
UT,
Wings,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Swans,
The Fire Engines,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Fania All-Stars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Invisible,
Shoche,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Blackbyrds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The United States of America,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Gories,
Babytalk,
DNA,
OOIOO,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Avey Tare,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gap Band,
kango's stein massive,
This Heat,
Surgeon,
Cameo,
Pierre Henry,
Johnny Osbourne,
Q65,
Dead Boys,
Bang On A Can,
Adolescents,
Pagans,
Eddi Front,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mark Hollis,
Joe Smooth,
The Five Americans,
Nick Fraelich,
The Human League,
Scott Walker,
Don Cherry,
Bobby Womack,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.