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 Laos and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet 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 Little Man to the crunk 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Q and Not U,
The Stooges,
Yusef Lateef,
Niagra,
Connie Case,
DJ Style,
James White and The Blacks,
Wasted Youth,
UT,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eric Copeland,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Flag,
The Fuzztones,
Ultra Naté,
Cymande,
The Victims,
Funkadelic,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Gun Club,
Radiopuhelimet,
Alton Ellis,
Echospace,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Red Krayola,
Tears for Fears,
Bob Dylan,
Peter and Kerry,
Al Stewart,
Groovy Waters,
Visage,
Mad Mike,
Vladislav Delay,
The Vogues,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Massinfluence,
Das Ding,
Radiohead,
Stiv Bators,
Moebius,
The Star Department,
Toni Rubio,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pantaleimon,
Judy Mowatt,
Blake Baxter,
Fluxion,
Jawbox,
Michelle Simonal,
Nick Fraelich,
Pet Shop Boys,
These Immortal Souls,
Harmonia,
the Association,
The Smoke,
JFA,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.